


Legacies: Inari Rising (A TVD Universe Fanfic)

by KaiRenshiro



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Kitsune, M/M, Multi, Shinto, Yôkai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-04-25 01:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22254208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiRenshiro/pseuds/KaiRenshiro
Summary: After a horrific display of power, the young witch Nolan 'Noel' Griffith is forced to flee the safety of his home for the sleepy town of Mystic Falls, Virginia.Ten years later, Noel has found himself a new home at the Salvatore Boarding School For The Young & Gifted as he studies magic and tries to live as normal a life as possible.But when the Salvatore school is attacked by monsters in pursuit of ancient artefacts, Noel finds his strange powers beginning to resurface - putting the security of the school at risk and attracting the attention of a shadowy, ancient order.Who is behind the monster attacks? What do they want with these artefacts? Who are the people chasing Noel and why? Why does Noel have these strange powers and what purpose do they serve?Noel must find answers to these questions if he is to stand a chance in the coming fight. But if he and his friends want to survive, they must answer the question that has haunted Noel since birth:What the hell *IS* he?
Relationships: Landon Kirby/Hope Mikaelson, Milton "MG" Greasley/Lizzie Saltzman, Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue - A Normal Day In Mystic Falls

It was a normal day in the town of Mystic Falls, Virginia.

The sun hung brightly in the hot, midday sky.  
The historic town square hummed with the quiet activity of the townspeople.  
The smell of fries and sizzling burger meat wafted from the Mystic Grill.  
And the rowdy Timberwolf jocks laughed and jaunted down the main street, cheerleaders on one arm and bags of food in the other.

But the most normal thing about today?

A pissed off Caroline Forbes-Salvatore.

"How the hell could you _do _this?!"

The Salvatore Boarding School For The Young and Gifted sat on the edge of town, tucked away in the forests like an old statue in a manor garden. Past it's enchanted iron gates and within it's burgundy, wooden walls sat the Headmaster's office. And within this office, Caroline was delivering one of her signature verbal thrashings.

The recipient? A mysterious benefactor of the school - a man who had almost no contact with Caroline _or _the school until a week ago.

Most of the school's contributors visited the school on occasion or even stayed in town as guests. But this benefactor didn't even set _foot _in the school.

No visit, no inspection, only a cheque for fifty-thousand dollars and one other item - a lapis-blue drawstring bag.

And then there was the _third _thing the donor left at the school - the reason why Caroline was so angry today.

"Are you even going to say goodbye?" Caroline asked, indicating to the hallway outside. "Or are you just going to dump him here like a piece of trash? Come on! He deserves a goodbye at le-"

_Dial tone._

"Hello? _Hello_?! Dammit!"

Caroline groaned as she slammed the phone back onto the hook. But her frustration overtook her self-control, cracking the phone in half and knocking a photo frame over in the process.

"Oh, for f-!"

But she stopped the final word before it slipped out, her attention shifting to the toppled photograph.

Caroline sighed as she picked it up, dusting off the edge of the frame with a weak smile.

The photo held two subjects, Caroline in a pearl-white wedding dress and a handsome, dark-haired man in a suit.

Caroline sat on the man's lap in the photo, their wedding rings shining brightly in the sunlight and their smiles even brighter.

_Stefan... _Caroline thought sadly.

Memories bubbled to the surface as she closed her eyes; memories of one day in particular.

It was the first days of Caroline becoming a vampire, a day when she and Stefan had traded stories of their experiences.

He had told her about the tumultuous emotions that came with vampirism, that one's human traits were 'magnified'.

Caroline had been uneasy about her chances of becoming an over the top, vampiric drama queen. Stefan however, seemed amused by the fact.

But now, here she was - letting that drama queen show as she talked back to the school's newest donor, thinking she knew what it meant to be a headmistress or a people-person. All because she let her emotions get the better of her.

"Ughhh," Caroline groaned. "Why is Alaric never here to deal with this stuff?"

She sighed, clutching the photograph to her chest.

_Oh, Stefan. What am I supposed to do?_

The floorboards creaked outside the door.

Caroline gasped, putting the photograph back onto the desk as she peered through a crack in the door.

"...Who's there?" she asked.

Was someone there? Or were her heightened senses playing tricks on her again?

A small hand crept into the doorway, nudging it open and allowing a young face to peer in.

It was a little boy's face, no more than six years old, with fair porcelain skin and ink-black hair. His features were soft and round - a doll-like face that betrayed a Japanese heritage.

Caroline breathed a sigh of relief.

"Nolan, sweetie, you startled me!"

The boy - Nolan - stopped in his tracks, his head bowed as his little hands bunched up the front of his shorts.

"Are you okay?" Caroline asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Are you hungry? Are the other kids being nice to you?"

Nolan stayed silent, his bright, round eyes watching Caroline intently.

Caroline felt her heart squeeze. He was so cute!

But her heart began to sink as Nolan's eyes fell upon the broken phone, his fingers tightening on his shorts.

"...Was that my Daddy?"

His question took Caroline by surprise, the vampiress pursing her lips as she searched for an answer.

"Um...yeah, it was! He was just calling to make sure you were doing okay!"

Nolan hung his head.

"Yeah!" Caroline repeated, putting on the most chipper voice she could. "We were talking about the school, all the exciting new classes you'll do, all the cool friends you're going to make, how long you'll be staying-"

"Forever." Nolan mumbled.

Caroline went silent.

"He wants me to stay here forever, doesn't he? Because he doesn't wanna see me again, right?"

His big eyes started to well with tears, causing Caroline's heart to sink

"I-I didn't mean to hurt them like that!" the boy exclaimed. "I-I didn't know! I p-promise I'll be good! Will Dad still want me if I promise to be good? I swear I-I will be!"

Nolan's tears finally began to fall, filling Caroline with panic. She gasped and ran towards him, holding the boy in her arms.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no!" she hushed. "It's not like that at all!"

But her words did nothing to soothe Nolan's cries. The boy clung to her sleeves, crying into the crook of her neck.

Caroline felt a pang of anger as she held Nolan, rubbing her hand up and down the child's back.

How could Nolan's father be so heartless? How could he just abandon him like this? Without even calling to say goodbye?

Nolan kept crying, hiccups rattling out from his parched throat.

Loss. Confusion. Frustration. Inadequacy. _Sadness._ If Caroline had a dollar for every time she experienced these emotions, she could practically _trademark_ them.

"No, sweetie." she sighed, holding the boy close. "Your dad _loves _you, I know it. It's just..._complicated_."

Nolan made a small sniffling sound, his fingers clutching Caroline's jacket sleeves.

"C-Compcated?" he asked, drawing away from the embrace.

Caroline stifled a giggle. "_Complicated_." she corrected. "It means...it means something that's hard to talk about. With a really tricky answer."

Nolan sniffed again, wiping his runny nose and puffy eyes with the back of his sleeve.

"C'mon, sweetie." Caroline smiled, tousling his hair. "No tears, okay?"

Nolan nodded, wiping the rest of his tears away. As he calmed down, two children appeared in the doorway.

They looked about Nolan's age, except they were both girls - one blonde and the other brunette. Both of them wore the same Salvatore uniform - blue skirts, blazers and white knee-high socks, each emblazoned with the school logo.

The girls looked at Caroline with expectant eyes but turned their gazes towards Nolan, the blonde girl wrinkling her nose.

"Who're _you_?"

Nolan whimpered and hid behind Caroline as the little girl glared at him, prompting Caroline to stand upright with pursed lips.

"Lizzie!" she frowned. "Manners!"

The blonde girl - Lizzie? - shirked back, taking the brunette girl's hand as if shielding herself from Caroline's ire.

But Caroline smiled at them and knelt down beside Nolan, putting her hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Girls,'' she beamed. "This is _Nolan_. He'll be staying with us here at the school. Be nice to him, okay?"

"Okay." the girls said in unison.

As the girls smiled at Nolan, Caroline patted him on the back, nudging him towards the girls with a bright smile.

"Go on, Nolan." she whispered. "It's okay."

Nolan shook his head, scampering back behind Caroline like a frightened animal.

"Nolan." Caroline repeated. "Come on."

But Nolan still wouldn't budge, the boy clinging onto Caroline's knee for dear life.

Caroline put her hands on her hips, giving Nolan a look. But before she could speak, the brunette girl stepped forward, stopping before Nolan's eyes.

"C'mon." she insisted, holding out her hand. "Me an' Lizzie can show you the school!"

Nolan leaned the _slightest _bit away from Caroline.

"My name's Josie." the girl grinned. "Do you wanna be my friend?"

Nolan stepped away from Caroline, blushing as he looked at the girl's smiling face.

_...Her eyes are pretty._

Trembling, the boy took her hand, letting her lead him away from Caroline and into the hallway outside.

"Stay inside and don't wander off, okay?" Caroline called out. "I love you, girls!"

"We love you too, Mommy!" the girls called back.

Caroline sighed with relief as the three left the room, Lizzie and Josie each taking one of Nolan's hands.

When she was certain the children were out of earshot, Caroline turned her attention back to the silk bag on her desk.

She picked it up and held it in her hands, looking at it with trepidation. But her trepidation turned into curiosity, however, when she felt something rolling around inside the bag.

Caroline threw away her caution and drew the bag open, the object in question clattering onto the desk.

"What the heck?"

It was a ball, no larger than a small plum, wrapped up in a thin golden chain.

It's surface was smoother than marble and tepid to the touch, with an opaque, dull-grey core.

Caroline narrowed her eyes.

But as she stared deeper into it, Caroline could have sworn that there was something inside it - a swirling shape like the eye of a hurricane or a ball of fire.

What was this thing? Was it enchanted? Some kind of witch thing?  
It looked valuable - _important_.

Why would Nolan's father abandon him but leave him with something this precious? It didn't make sense!

But that was par for the course around here. As normal as could be.

Caroline slumped back in her chair.   
  
It was a normal day in Mystic Falls. But as she stared deeper into the ball's misty-grey core, an unsettling feeling crept up Caroline's back.

Like this was the last normal day the town was going to have for a _very _long time.


	2. Who Is In Control?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been nine years since Nolan's ward abandoned him at the Salvatore Boarding School For The Young & Gifted.   
Now going by 'Noel', the young man lives his life and practices his magic at his own pace. 
> 
> ...With rather mixed results.

Despite it’s reputation, the Salvatore Boarding School For The Young and Gifted was actually quite similar to the average school.   
Like other schools, the Salvatore student body had it's jocks. Only they were prone to shape shifting under a full moon.  
It's cliques were like any other, barring their ability to cast spells and hexes.   
And who could forget the creepy loner kids? Only these kids dialled up the creepy a few extra notches. Blood-drinking and all.   
Basketball? Wickory. Chemistry? Chemistry of Magic. Biology? Origin of the Supernatural Species.   
And group assignments? Well, they were just as bad as normal group assignments.   
As the Salvatore witches knew all too well…   
"...and because some spells are stronger when cast in a group, most covens make sure to foster trust and teamwork amongst their members.”   
The man at the front of the room seemed to be in his own little paradise, his smile wide as he scribbled note after note on the blackboard.  
"Mr. Williams," one of the many bored witches spoke up. "We've already gone over those stuff."  
Dorian Williams turned to face his student, the sun glowing on his chocolate skin like a halo.   
“Yeah.” he answered smugly. “But since your last teacher incinerated himself, I’m the best teacher you’ve got. And I like to go over the basics.”   
A chorus of groans resounded from the class as Dorian went back to the chalkboard. Ignoring them, the teacher added a new diagram - a straight line with three stick figures.  
"Now to build trust quicker between new witches, covens developed 'chain spells' - demonstrations of magic that can only be performed by two, three or more witches. And while they might look cool and flashy, they can only be pulled off with finesse, control and trust in the people you’re linking with.”

Dorian put the chalk down, turning to face the class.

"Alright," he clapped his hands together. "You guys know the drill. You've all been put into groups of three to demonstrate a chain spell. You'll each be assessed on technique, power, control and your bond with your partners. Any questions?"  
The witches remained silent as Dorian took a clipboard off the nearby desk.  
"Alright, Serena, Wade and Marcus - you guys are first up for the demonstration."  
An excited smile appeared on Wade's face, an enthusiasm unshared by his team-mates.  
"Alyssa, Lizzie, Kane," Dorian continued. "You guys will be up second."  
Again, a lackluster response.  
"And then," Dorian finished, taking a head count. "It's Josie, Penelope and Nol-"  
He stopped abruptly, looking around the room in confusion.  
"Wait, where's Nolan?"

******

Now, this was much better.   
The boy lounged lazily under the sunlight, his hands tucked under his head as he grinned at the sky.   
The young man knew his place, that he should be in a classroom facing a chalkboard or in the library with his nose in a book.  
Instead, here he was, lying on the grass by the lake, with the motivation of a slug and posture of a contorted sloth.   
And honestly? It couldn't be better.  
Because here, far beyond the school walls and just beyond the shady trees, the boy felt truly at ease. At peace.  
The way the invigorating scent of the lake mingled with the sweetness of the flowers. The gentle trilling of the cicadas and whistling birds. The coolness of the soft grass beneath his back and fingertips. The gentle spring breeze washing over, under and through his body.  
And the sun. God, the sun. The way it warmed his skin and breathed vitality into every cell in his body - bliss.  
He smiled dreamily and unbottoned his school shirt, the gentle heat tickling his bare chest and stomach.   
How could everyone be so preoccupied with the indoors? Why were they so obsessed with finding reasons to stay inside, when they had all this on the outside? The sun, the sky, the breeze - screw the indoors! He’d rather spend a day outside in the thunder and rain than minute inside on the comfiest couch. Yep, total, uninterruped bli- Oh, god, what was that smell?!  
The youth wrinkled his nose as the stench of designer fragrance and sandalwood filled the air. Not a moment later, he felt someone looming over him.   
"I don't know who you are," the boy grimaced. "But you're in my sun."  
The silhouetted figure scoffed, putting a hand on one of it’s hips.   
“And you’re wasting my time.” a female voice retorted. “Guess we’re both pains in each others asses.”   
The boy smirked as he recognised the voice.   
“Penelope Park making time for little old me.” he chuckled under his breath. “I feel honoured.”   
“You’re lucky you’re feeling anything, skipping class like this.” Penelope said. “Dorian looked like he was about to snap his clipboard in half and drag you back himself, Nolan.”   
“It’s Noel.” Nolan - or rather Noel, corrected her, gritting his teeth. “Stop calling me that.”   
He winced as he momentarily opened his eyes, holding a hand above his eyebrows.   
“And if you’re gonna loom over me, could you do it a few inches to the left? You're in my sun.”  
"Oh, Nolan," she cooed. "Don't you know that you're not supposed to sit in the sun so long?"  
She cocked her brunette head at Noel's collar.  
"Don't want to get a melanoma on that pretty little tattoo of yours."  
Noel opened one eye, glancing down at the 'tattoo' in question.  
It was an abyss-black mark, shaped like a teardrop and about the size of a small fist. It sat just below Noel's right collarbone, drawing in Noel's gaze like a black hole.  
"It's not a tattoo." Noel grumbled, shutting his eyes again. "It's a birthmark."  
"Yeahhhh, no." Penelope droned. "That's way too distinctive for a birthmark."  
"Does it matter?" Noel argued. "Birthmark or not, it's there. For as long as I can remember."

He scoffed.

"But I really wouldn't put it past my 'dad'. Tattooing a kid isn't too far down the ladder from abandoning one."

"Yeah, whatevs." Penelope groaned, rolling her eyes. "I came here to drag you back to class. Not hear about your daddy issues."  
“Well consider it a wasted journey.” Noel snapped back. “‘Cos I’m not going. Give my regards to Dorian though.”

Penelope glanced up at the sun hovering in the sky, a mischievous smile growing on her face.

"...You sure about that, Nolan?"

Noel's face twitched at the mention of his full name. "Yes."

The smile on Penelope’s face grew wider as she shut her eyes, gathering her magic as she focused on the sunbeams.   
"Intesifa."

The incantation rang in Noel's ears like a klaxon siren, the youth bolting upright with a gasp.

But it was too late. By the time his palms met the grass, the heat of the sunbeam intensified, burning his chest.

"Oww! Jesus Christ!" Noel exclaimed, jumping up with a start. "Are you crazy?!"

Penelope smiled smugly. "Well, I'm stuck in a group assignment with you. So I'm about halfway there."

Noel ignored her, wincing as he fanned his sunburn with his shirt. The skin was hot to the touch and the brightest shade of red-pink the boy had ever seen. And that was to say nothing of the searing, cold-hot pain.

Penelope smirked as Noel’s gaze met hers. The boy sighing as he let his hands fall to his sides.  
“...I’m not going to that class.” he frowned, his face awash with concern. “You think I’m an idiot?”   
Penelope said nothing, her face still as stone. She knew the reason Noel was so apprehensive about going to class. Everyone did. Noel, Penelope, the coven. Hell, even other students outside the coven. The reason being...  
“Every time I walk into that classroom,” Noel sighed. “You, Alyssa and the rest of the witches all either make fun of me, ignore me or mock me - and that’s just a normal class.”   
Again, Penelope was silent. The Park witch folded her arms and looked down guiltily.  
“...I-I can’t control it.” Noel hung his head. “I can’t control my magic. I keep trying, but-"  
“Look,” Penelope sighed. “That doesn’t matter, it-”   
“You know there’s an assignment today. So what’s the plan? You all gonna make fun of me when I fail the chain spell? Laugh at me when I try? Oh! Maybe you’ll all just sabotage-”   
“Okay,” Penelope groaned, holding up her hand. “One, I’m sorry for making fun of you that time. But you did almost set yourself and the teacher on fire - kinda hard not to laugh. Two, Dorian’s watching the assessment so maybe he’ll cover you. And three, my grade is riding on yours so they sure as hell better not sabotage us.”   
She crossed her arms, giving Noel a sideways look.  
“Now, are you gonna haul ass back to the classroom? Or am I gonna have to burn something else?”   
Noel rolled his eyes. Sighing in defeat, he scooped up his blue school jacket, wrapping it around himself as he stormed away.   
“Penelope Park,” he groaned. “Always the diplomat.”   
“Just walk.” Penelope clapped back. “And please do your shirt up!"

******

The energy of the chain spell flowed effortlessly between Alyssa and her partners. Still as a cloud and gentle as a summer breeze.  
It lingered for a moment, their conjoined arms glowing a glittery gold, before it dissipated completely.   
"Perfect!" Dorian praised, marking off his checkboard. "Kane, extra points for attentiveness."  
Kane said nothing, tugging his open-crowned hat as he went back to his desk.  
"Lizzie, great work maintaining control. Good to see you're improving!"  
The blonde Saltzman grinned proudly.  
"And Alyssa. Fantastic work maintaining the core of the spell and extra points for flair."  
Alyssa winked at the class, bowing with a overt flourish.  
"Show-off." Lizzie groaned.  
Alyssa flicked a lock of her hair. "Well, you know what they say; when you've got talent - flaunt it."  
She looked Lizzie up and down with disinterested eyes.  
"Not that you'd know anything about talent..."   
Lizzie glared at Alyssa, storming over to her until Dorian spoke up:  
"Okay, girls," he warned. No need to get catty."  
Alyssa smirked as Lizzie backed away, her eyes still narrowed.  
"Okay," Dorian murmured, tapping his checkboard. "Next up is Josie, Penelope and Nolan."  
Josie nodded and left her desk, moving to the front as Alyssa put her hands on her hips.  
"Oh, wonderful," she sighed smugly. "The exes and their defective third wheel..."  
A bout of stifled laughter rattled across the room, prompting a frown from Dorian.  
"That's enough." he warned the class. “You shouldn’t laugh at your classmates’ expense.”   
“At their expense? Not even when they’re expendable?” Alyssa snickered.   
More laughter, only this time, the witches didn’t even try to hide it. Almost a third of them were hunched over their desks, holding their sides as they cackled uproariously at Nolan’s expense.   
All except for Lizzie and Josie.  
"Shut up, Alyssa." the blonde twin spoke. "Not all of us are talented show-offs like you!"  
"Well, look at this!" Alyssa scoffed. "One freak sticking up for another! Y'know I'd be a little more worried about this if I were you. What if Nolan's magic goes out of control again and he hurts Josie? What if he sets your sister on fire-?"   
“...Then maybe you should swap places with her.”   
The witches piped down as Noel entered the room, his eyes narrowed as Penelope followed close behind him.   
“Because if blowing you up is the next assessment, Alyssa, I’m shooting for an ‘A’.”   
Alyssa sneered at him as Dorian ticked off Noel’s name on the checkboard.   
“Nolan,” the man sighed. “About time you got ba- Whoa, what the hell happened to you?!”   
Noel rolled his eyes and buttoned his shirt up further. “Penelope’s sick idea of motivation.”   
“Don’t be a little bitch, Nolan.” Penelope chided as she "Just put some aloe vera on it and grow a pair.”  
"O-Okay," Dorian murmured, his eyes glued to Noel's sunburn. "Just uh...come up to the front and link hands with Josie and Penelope. Then we can get this started.  
Noel marched up to the front, his heart sinking with every step.  
"Thanks for having my back, by the way." he added, slapping Dorian's upper arm. "All that knowledge and you still don't know how to grow a spine?"  
Dorian frowned at him.  
"And it's Noel." the youth added.   
"Alright," Dorian sighed. "You've made your point. Can you start the demonstration now?"  
Noel frowned as he took Penelope's hand and led her to the front, the Park witch smirking at his discomfort.  
"Try not to enjoy yourself too much, Nolan." she cooed.  
"I'll try to restrain myself." Noel sighed.  
Penelope extended her free hand towards Josie, giving the girl a seductive wink.  
"Milady?"  
Josie groaned as she took Penelope's hand, ignoring the sensation of the latter's thumb brushing her skin.  
"Okay," Dorian instructed. "First, the incantation. When you're ready."  
Noel's throat started to close up as he gathered his magic, the boy's hands shaking.  
"Hey." a voice whispered.  
Noel looked to his right to see Josie smiling at him.  
"You've got this." she encouraged. "It'll be okay."  
"Oh, get a room." Penelope groaned.  
Noel bit his lip and resumed his magic gathering, willing his anxiety away as he cast the incantation:  
"Phasmatos, et torquem aedificem."  
The ends of Noel's fingertips began to glow, the yellow warmth slowly migrating onto Penelope's knuckles.   
"Good." Dorian remarked. "Penelope, you're up."  
"Phasmatos, et torquem ponere." Penelope recited.   
The yellow light travelled from her left hand and across her shoulders, lingering on Josie's hand.   
"Alright Josie, your turn." Dorian said. "And after Josie casts the incantation, I want you all to hold the spell for a half minute."  
The trio nodded, though Noel seemed unsure.   
Please don't mess up. he begged himself. Please don't mess up, please don't mess up…   
"Phasmatos, et torquem ponere." he incanted. "Phasmatos, et torquem ponere. Phasmatos, et- agh!"  
The words suddenly felt thick in Noel's throat, the boy losing his train of thought.  
Alyssa groaned. "Oh great! It's happening again!"  
"No!" Noel groaned. "I-I can do this!"  
He held tighter onto Penelope's hand.  
"Phasmatos, et torquem ponere! Phasmatos - arghhh!"  
A sharp, burning pain flared up the boy's whole right side. He grit his teeth, trying to fight the pain. But as he struggled, the words of the incantation were suddenly gone from his mind, as if his tongue refused to speak them.  
No, no, no! Not now!!   
"NOEL!" Dorian called out.  
Noel snapped out of his daze and jumped away as a surge of energy shot up Penelope's left arm, the girl screaming in agony.  
The rest of the witches backed up and away from their desks as Josie dropped to Penelope's side. Hesitantly, the girl gripped her ex-lover by the shoulders, her fingertips glowing rust-brown.  
Noel gasped. "Wait, Jo-!"  
But Josie shut her eyes, the energy building around Penelope slowly dissipating. Within moments, all trace of it was gone, leaving only a dazed Penelope.  
"Shit, Penelope!" Nola gasped, falling onto his kness. "A-Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't-!"  
Penelope groaned and nudged him away.  
"It's cool..." she winced. "I-I'll live...thanks to JoJo..."  
Noel pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around the Park witch, holding her close.  
"Here, I'll take you to the Nurse's Office-"  
"Get the hell away from her!"  
Noel whirled around to see Alyssa and the other witches standing up from their desks, each of them staring daggers at him.  
The witch swallowed and glanced sideways at Dorian, who nodded at him, giving the boy the signal to stand.  
"I didn't mean to-" Noel began, but Alyssa cut him off.  
"You said that last time!" the girl snapped. "And the time before that and the time before that. Every time your magic blows up and then you pretend like it never happened!"  
"Now hold on, Alyssa." Dorian defended. "That's why I put Josie in group. So she could siphon the magic if anything went wrong."  
"And how long before Nolan blows her up too?!" Alyssa retorted. She turned to face the rest of the witches, rallying them to her side.  
"He's dangerous and you all know it! He shouldn't be allowed anywhere near this school or us!"  
A group of 'Yeahs!' rang out across the room, at least a third of the witches taking a step forward. But before they could get any closer to Nolan, Dorian stepped forward.  
"Hey, come on guys." he said firmly. "Give it a rest. Everything's under control now-"  
"For how long?" a witch called out.  
"What happens next time?!" another questioned.  
"Yeah!" Alyssa barked. "How long are you gonna endanger us by keeping this braindead defective around?"  
Her words tore straight through Noel's heart, like the cold edge of an icy blade.  
"Alyssa!" Dorian shouted. "Apologize right now!!"  
But Alyssa wasn't finished.  
"No!" she challenged. "And why should I apologize for him not being in control?!"  
"Because-!" Dorian began.  
Shut up.  
A hot wind tore through the room, slamming the doors shut and knocking over the desks and chairs. Everybody jolted with fright, even as the wind died down. In a split-second, the entire room darkened. Every candle was snuffed out. Every lightbulb flickered and shut off. Every phone began to buzz and fizzle out. Even the sun in the window panes grew cold, as if something were blocking it's rays.  
And Dorian already had one guess where it was coming from.   
Noel hadn’t moved, but something was wrong with him. His head was bowed and his fists were shaking at his sides. As Dorian approached him, heard heard Noel muttering to himself, his voice shaking and fearful.   
“Noel!” Dorian exclaimed. “I’m gonna need you to calm down!”   
Noel's eyes flashed open, but they were different from the ones Dorian remembered.  
His irises were a luminous white and his sclerae were jet black, like a starless night.   
"Noel!" Dorian called out.   
But Noel wasn’t listening. All emotion had vanished from his face and the venom was still spewing from his eyes.   
The wind and the dry heat had vanished, but the malicious energy lingered, shrouding Noel like a heavy cloak. The boy took a single step forward, his predatory gaze fixated on Alyssa.  
Alyssa, forgetting her snide smugness, took a single step backwards.   
“Insult me one more time, you little bitch.” Noel sneered, his voice low and guttural. “And I’ll show you just how ‘out of control’ my magic really is.”   
The magic in the air was all but suffocating now, cracking the windows and fouling the very air.   
Alyssa’s body temperature was starting to rise. Her throat was beginning to constrict, as if choked by some phantom grip. And her eyes began to burn, the witch blinking back tears.   
Alyssa's discomfort brought satisfaction to Noel’s darkened face, his white irises gleaming.   
Good. a sadistic thought urged at the back of his mind. Let her suffer. She's put me down for too long! Tried to use me as an excuse to curry favour with the other witches! Let her suffer, let her hurt- let her BURN-!"  
"Noel!"  
Noel snapped out of his trance as a pair of hands closed around his, the worried face of Josie Saltzman standing before him.  
"Noel." she whispered. "It's okay. It's alright."  
The soft lowness of Josie's voice drew Noel back from the edge, the soft, chocolate brown of her eyes quelling his rage.  
Noel's eyes returned to their normal, dark auburn and his breathing steadied; the magic energy around him vanishing.   
"J-Josie?"  
"Shh." Josie hushed, putting a hand against his cheek. "It's okay, it's all okay-"  
"No!" Noel snapped, pushing her hands away. "I-It's not, I-!"  
He looked down, tears threatening to spill from his as he stormed over to the doors.  
"Nolan!" Dorian called out. "You can't leave now! We still have to grade your assessment-!"  
“Then fail me!” Noel yelled, throwing his arms up. “Hell, expel me if you want to!"  
He dropped his hands as Dorian looked at him with unease.  
"It's not like anyone here wants me anyway!"  
And without another word, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.  
"That's right! Leave!" Alyssa called out. "You stupid defecti-"  
"Oh, shut up, Alyssa." Lizzie barked.


	4. Losses, Lizzie and 'Like-Liking' Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noel is haunted by his past, the whims of Lizzie Saltzman and school gossip concerning him and a friend.   
As things get worse in the present, will the arrival of a new student help Noel catch his breath? Or are things only about to get worse for the witch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Whoop, Whoop*! Thanks for all the support, witches!   
The story might be starting off slow right now but it is *REALLY* gonna kick off next chapter.   
Hold onto your fangs, fur and cauldrons, folks, because IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN! <3 
> 
> And I LOVE seeing interaction on my works so comments (and kudos) are always welcome and appreciated <3

_ The flames flickered on the cemetery's old stone floor, licking the weathered effigies and tombstones with their white-hot heat.  _

_ The burst of magic energy had been as terrible as it had been unseen; springing forth from practically nowhere and blanketing the entire area in ivory flames.  _

_ Miraculously, no-one had been harmed. Through some act of ancestral protection, providence or sheer luck, each of the witches got away unharmed.  _

_ Except for the little boy.  _

_ A child lay in the centre of the chaos, face-down on the worn cobblestones.  _

_ Thirty witches emerged from their hiding places, peering over the tombstones, alcoves and crypt walls to assess the boy's condition.  _

_ Was he dead? Surely no-one could have survived that!  _

_ But the boy started to stir, whimpering as the seared skin on his arms rubbed against the dead grass and stone beneath him.  _

_ He got to his knees, his vision blurred as the flames began to snuff themselves out.  _

_ "Nolan?" a voice asked.  _

_ The boy turned around as a man emerged from the crowd, staring at the child in disbelief.  _

_ "...Daddy?" he asked weakly. "W-What...happened?"  _

_ But the man said nothing, his dark features stricken with panic as he beheld an unseen thing behind Nolans' little form.  _

_ "Nolan…" he repeated, his voice shaky. "What the hell...have you done?"  _

***********

Noel's eyes flashed open, the boy drawing a sharp breath as he woke. 

An alarm clock chirped incessantly on his bedside table, rattling on its silver, pin-sized legs until Noel swatted it's top. 

_ Silence.  _

The boy rolled over in bed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the dream lingered in his mind. 

_ Ugh _ , he thought drearily.  _ Nothing like a bad memory to start the day. _

He kicked off his checkered black comforter and sat upright, the chilly morning air tickling his naked torso. Noel ignored it and staggered into the bathroom, washing away his grogginess with some splashes of hot water. 

As the water trickled down his chin, more memories flooded his mind - recollections of the day before. 

...It happened again. He lost control. 

God, that was the third time in the last  _ five  _ months. When was it going to end? 

Noel sighed, looking at his reflection in the basin mirror. 

His skin was a dry, icy-white, like a weathered marble statue, with faint bluish-red bags under his eyes. The boy's hair wasn't faring any better, dangling in thin bangs down the front of his forehead, the tips a frosty white. 

Noel bit his lip. 

Greying hair. Another pain in the boy's ass; one that seemed to worsen with every fit and outburst he had. 

When he first came to the Salvatore School as a child, the greyness stuck to a few stray hairs - now it covered the whole front and right of his bangs. 

Everyone had their own theories on why his hair acted this way. Dorian and Alaric believed it was a 'witch's mark'. Emma assumed it was Marie-Antoinette Syndrome and Alyssa Chang thought it was a 'crappy fashion statement'. 

_ 'I don't care what it is,'  _ Noel always told them. _ 'I just want it gone.'  _

He dried his face on a nearby towel, moving over to a brown chest of drawers at the foot of his bed. The witch reached out to the topmost drawer but suddenly froze as he glanced at his forearms. 

.. _ .He almost forgot the scars.  _

Noel's throat tightened as he looked at forearms, beholding the scarred skin that stretched from his elbows to his palms. 

The scars were thin, barely the width of a pipe cleaner, but stretched out in raised, lightning-like webs. Any area that  _ wasn't  _ covered in scars was either dry or covered in pale pink skin. 

His throat tightened as he looked at his arms, the crisscrossing pink lines reflecting in his eyes. 

Nightmares, greying hair and outbursts, but it was the scars that were the worst. 

Nightmares didn't occur all that frequently. The greying hair could be trimmed down or partly dyed. And the outbursts, for the most part, could be avoided. 

But nothing helped with the scars. They weren't on or off like the nightmares. They couldn't be hidden or obscured like the white and grey hairs. And they certainly couldn't be managed in any way. 

The scars were just  _ there _ . And they... 

Noel balled his hands into fists. 

...And they were  _ hideous.  _ Yet another reminder of what he suffered through  _ that  _ day. 

The boy tore his eyes away and returned to the chest of drawers, pulling out a black hoodie and grey-white skinny jeans. He tossed the clothes onto his bed with a scowl, as if he were throwing a knife into someone's back and started to pull down his pyjama pants...

The door swung open, an exasperated Lizzie Saltzman marching inside. 

"Oh, thank  _ God _ , you're finally up and - WHOA!" 

She stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Noel pulling down his pants, the blonde witch letting out an ear-piercing shriek. 

Noel gasped, pulling his pants up so fast that he almost gave himself a wedgie. 

"Jesus  _ Christ!"  _ he exclaimed, falling back against his drawers. "You ever hear of  _ knocking _ ?!" 

"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!" Lizzie sobbed, clapping her hands over her eyes. "I've been scarred for life!" 

Noel gave silent thanks that his pants only made it halfway down his thigh before Lizzie barged in, the boy standing upright with folded arms. 

"What are you doing here, Lizzie?" he asked tersely. Honestly, was nowhere safe?

But Lizzie was still flustered, averting her eyes with a dramatic flourish. "J-Just cover-up, will you?!"

Noel rolled his eyes at Lizzie's newfound prudishness, snatching up a shirt from his bed and holding it over his chest like a bra. 

"What are you  _ doing here _ , Elizabeth?" 

The mention of her full name got Lizzie's attention, the blonde folding her arms as she finally looked Noel in the eye. 

She wore a flowery, white collared shirt, with a red bow tied around her neck and a cobalt-blue jacket draped around her shoulders. 

Around her waist, fastened by a thin black belt, was a pair of sea-green plaid pants, complemented by a pair of Doc Martens so white, Noel could see the roof reflected on the soles. 

"Hmm," she twirled a lock of icy-blonde hair around a finger. "Long version or the short version?" 

"The 'Whatever-The-Hell-Gets-You-Out-Of-My-Room' version." Noel seethed. 

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Dad went on a trip to Georgia State with that  _ she-devil  _ Hope Mikaelson," she grit her teeth as she said Hope's name. "Apparently they found out about some supernatural kid stuck in a dead-end foster home, and now they want to enrol them here at the school." 

Noel's grip on his shirt relaxed. 

"Hope Mikaelson isn't here?" he joked. "I thought the school felt less intense." 

He almost dropped the shirt, but as he lowered his arms, his scars came into view. 

Noel's heart leapt into his throat, fearing that Lizzie saw them, but she was too busy looking around the room. 

He pressed the shirt back against his chest, turning his forearms and wrists away from Lizzie's eyes. 

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Lizzie groaned, oblivious to Noel's insecurity. "Dad texted Josie and me a few minutes ago to say that they just crossed the Mystic Falls county line. They'll be here any minute and-"

"...And this has  _ what  _ to do with me?" Noel asked, fearing the answer. 

Lizzie clapped her hands, a devilish smile on her face as she reached down towards a battered, white tote bag at her feet. The blonde witch reached inside, dusting off a plastic-wrapped Salvatore school blazer. 

"Here." she offered in a sing-songy voice. 

Noel's brow furrowed. Why was Lizzie Saltzman giving him a school blazer? Barring the fact that she was  _ offering  _ him something, the school's official blazers were notoriously expensive. As such, they were only worn by wealthier students or on formal duties like school excursions, assemblies or tour guides and-

Noel's eyes widened. 

"Oh,  _ hell no!! _ " he exclaimed. "I'm not playing tour guide for you, Saltzman! That's yours and Josie's job!" 

But Lizzie stormed over and shoved the blazer into Noel's arms, a smug expression on her face. 

"And now it's  _ yours _ ." she said gleefully. 

Noel still wasn't convinced. "You can't be serious." 

" _ Dead _ serious." Lizzie scowled. "Which is exactly what you'll be if you don't hurry the hell up." 

Okay,  _ now  _ Noel was convinced. He groaned in defeat and put the blazer on top of his drawers and entered the bathroom. 

"I'm going to need twenty minutes to shower and get dressed and-" 

"You have  _ ten _ , Nolan." the girl snapped. "Now haul ass!" 

And without another word, she slammed the door shut. 

Noel seethed as he turned the hot water on in the shower. 

"It's  _ Noel! _ " he called out. 

******

"Eleven minutes and twenty-five seconds." 

Lizzie tucked her phone away in her pocket, glancing behind her at Noel. 

"Not a very good timekeeper, are you?" she asked curtly. 

Noel groaned, tugging on the sleeves of his blazer. 

"Are you seriously gonna start micromanaging me?" he asked, gritting his teeth. 

The two of them had long since left Noel's room and started down the hallway. They passed by the rows of dorm-rooms, the sunlit, auburn walls and ornate wooden stairwells - all on their way to the foyer. 

Thank goodness that everyone was stuck in class or outside watching the Wickery game - fewer people to see Lizzie drag Noel around like a brain-dead puppy dog. 

"You complain too much." Lizzie groaned, flipping back her blonde hair. 

"You volunteered me for a job you  _ know _ I hate doing." Noel retorted. "If I'd done that to  _ you _ , there'd be pieces of me scattered across Mystic Falls right now." 

She smirked. 

"Maybe I should've asked Josie to come and get you. Probably would have complained less." 

Noel narrowed his eyes, momentarily forgetting his discomfort. 

"What are you trying to say,  _ Lizzie _ ?" 

Lizzie kept her back to Noel, but the boy could already tell that she was rolling her eyes. 

"Come off it, Nolan." she groaned. "We all know you have the hots for my sister." 

"Oh, for  _ fuck's sake _ !"

There it was! There they went again! The same question everyone had been pestering him with since Day One. 

_ Do you like Josie? _

Again and again, people have asked that question. From those bitchy, bratty little witches to those nosy vampires - even those butt-sniffing werewolves had to chime in! 

Do you like Josie? Do you ‘ _ like’ _ like Josie? Are you in love with Josie? How long have you been hot for her? Again and again and again! 

And (in case it wasn't already clear) Noel was  _ sick  _ of it. Even more than his outbursts and greying hair.

"For the millionth time." Noel scowled. "I  _ don't  _ like Josie like that!" 

"So you say," Lizzie sighed. "But people are going to talk, Nolan. Especially after your little  _ moment  _ in class yesterday." 

Noel stopped fidgeting just long enough to feel his cheeks flush, recalling Josie's hands on his face yesterday in class. 

_ Her hands. They were so comforting. So warm-  _

"She was just trying to help me." he defended, forcing the memory out of his mind. "Nothing else." 

Lizzie scoffed. "Didn't look like it from where I was standing." 

Noel opened his mouth to speak, but Lizzie groaned, her nostrils flaring as she folded her arms. 

"You might be a pain in the ass," the girl chided. "But I'd prefer you hooking up with Josie than that Blair _ Bitch _ , Penelope Park." 

Noel rolled his eyes. So Lizzie liked him better than the conniving, mean girl that made her life a living hell? What a ringing endorsement…

They finally reached the foyer, weaving past a group of junior students as they approached the doors. Lizzie stopped walking, clearing her throat and adjusting her bow. 

"Game faces on, Nolan." she grinned. "It's time to make an  _ entrance _ ." 

Noel sighed. "...Yay…" 

Lizzie promptly opened the doors, rays of mid-morning sunlight flooding the entryway. A pang of disappointment filled Noel's heart as he looked around the driveway - no sign of Lizzie's father or a new student anywhere in sight. 

In fact, the driveway was completely empty, save for one solitary figure. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jo." Lizzie apologized. "Nolan had a little  _ trouble  _ getting ready." 

Noel would have given her the mother of all glares were Josie not present. The last thing he needed to do was make a bad impression on one of his last (or only) friend left. 

"... It's fine." Josie murmured. "Don't worry about it." 

Both of the twins were dressed in their best clothes, Noel thought. But where Lizzie had adopted a more casual look, Josie was the picture of elegance. 

She wore a simple navy-blue sweater with frilly sleeve cuffs that curled around her wrists. A scarlet-red mini-skirt hung around her waist, contrasting with the red and gold Salvatore' S' that shone proudly on her collar. 

A light scent tickled Noel's nose as they approached her, the faint but sweet smell of lavender perfume drawing him in. 

Noel swallowed. 

And to top it all off, Josie's brunette hair was done up in a neat ponytail, accentuating the delicate curve of her supple, swan-like neck- 

Noel shook his head, chiding himself as he tore his eyes away from Josie. 

Damn Lizzie and her stupid gossiping! Now he was too self-conscious to even  _ look  _ Josie's way! 

"...Hey, Noel." Josie suddenly said, breaking the silence. 

"Hi, Josie." Noel greeted in turn. His words were light, and his voice soft, but he didn't meet Josie's gaze as he spoke. 

Ignoring the tense atmosphere, the two of them fell into line alongside Lizzie - Noel on the blonde's right and Josie on Lizzie's left. 

Lizzie took a deep breath, a satisfied smile on her face. But Noel and Josie didn't share her enthusiasm - the two refusing to even look one another in the eye. 

Josie looked down, playing with her fingers and Noel stood at ease, feelings of guilt, frustration and embarrassment churning in his stomach. 

"...Are you okay?" Josie finally asked, lifting her head.

Noel was silent for a moment. 

"...I made an idiot out of myself in front of all the witches," he answered. "Pissed off Alyssa Chang, woke up with nightmares and just got grilled by your sister." 

Lizzie shot him a look. 

"No," he finished. "I feel like  _ shit _ ." 

Josie bit her lower lip and looked down dejectedly. 

Noel sighed. That sounded a lot less harsh in his head… 

But Josie seemed unfazed by his sharp words. 

"You don't have to struggle like this." the witch said. "You know you can talk to me about...about  _ stuff _ , right? Stuff that's bothering you?" 

Noel couldn't help but feel comforted by her words. But the sensation quickly faded as Noel recalled Josie's overly caring nature - her codependent, bleeding heart.

"I'm sure you say that to everyone." he grumbled. 

Lizzie smacked him on the arm, causing Noel to jump back. 

"Don't be an ass!" she snapped. "She's trying to help you!" 

Noel winced, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. 

"She's  _ always  _ nice." Noel defended. "That's the problem. And she doesn't need me adding to it." 

Josie looked away. 

"Besides," Noel added. "I don't need any help." 

Lizzie scoffed. "Oh, really? Because your little Carrie-style tantrum yesterday says otherwise." 

Noel ignored her. Was Lizzie Saltzman  _ really  _ giving him mental health advice? What was next, a seminar on making friends from Hope Mikaelson? A lecture on focus from Milton Greasley? 

A low sound rumbled from the other side of the courtyard, a dark jeep pulling up outside the school gate.

"There they are." Josie whispered, standing up straight. 

Noel observed the jeep as it approached, trying to sneak a peek at the Salvatore School's newest student.

"So who is this new student supposed to be?" he asked Lizzie, keeping one eye on the jeep.

Lizzie teetered on her heels, craning her neck. 

"Dunno," she said. "Dad was stingy on the details. But judging by all the chains he was cramming into the car, I'd guess a werewolf. 

Noel's blood ran cold. "W-Werewolf?!" 

"Don't freak out." Lizzie warned him. "We can't have your little werewolf issues freaking out the new kid." 

"It's not an 'issue'," Noel defended. "It's an aversion. A  _ dislike _ ." 

"Whatever." Lizzie retorted. 

Noel shook his head as he looked back towards the driveway. The jeep was mere feet away from them. As it approached, Noel could make out the stoic face of Hope Mikaelson, her auburn hair shining in the sunlit car window. 

Beside her, in the driver's seat, was a handsome man with combed, brown and grey-streaked hair - Dr Alaric Saltzman, the Headmaster. 

But it was the boys in the back seat that warranted the most attention. 

"Hello,  _ hottie _ ." Lizzie gasped, grinning from ear to ear. 

At first, Noel registered the boy on the far left seat, but his black, curly hair and awestruck expression didn't cater to Lizzie's tastes. 

Clearly, Noel realized, it was the other boy that Lizzie was eyeing; a tall, African-American boy with buzz-cut hair and a muscular frame wrapped up in a navy-blue hoodie. 

Hell, he even caught  _ Noel's  _ eye. But that was an indulgence for another time... 

The jeep came to a stop, Lizzie clearing her throat as the handsome boy stepped out. 

"Welcome to the Salvatore School." she beamed, her smile bright as sunshine. "We're your tour guides." 

"I'm Josie." Josie cut in. She gave the new boy a warm smile, which made Noel's heart sink. 

"I'm Lizzie." Lizzie introduced, smiling even more. "Sisters." 

"Twins." Josie corrected her. 

"Fraternal.  _ Obvs _ ." 

The girls giggled, oblivious as their father exited the jeep with Hope and the other boy. 

The handsome boy nodded blankly and glanced at Noel, his dark eyes sending a rush through the young witch's body. 

"I'm Noel." Noel introduced himself mirthlessly. "No twin. Only child and unwilling participant." 

Lizzie glared at him again. Some choice words burned in the blonde witch's mouth, but before she could unleash them, Alaric put a hand on her shoulder. 

"Rafael." the Headmaster began. "Why don't you go ahead with the girls while I talk to Landon?" 

The curly-haired boy stiffened as Alaric said his name, a name that Noel quickly registered. 

_ Rafael and Landon.  _ So those were their names. 

Lizzie and Josie approached Rafael, the two smiling as they linked arms with him, averting their eyes from Hope. 

"Morning, Hope." they droned.

"Morning, girls." Hope responded. Her voice was soft and welcoming, but even that wasn't enough for Lizzie. 

"More like  _ despair _ ." she scoffed. 

"I heard that." Hope retorted, gritting her pearly teeth. 

"No, you didn't!" 

"Didn't have t-" 

"Everyone,  _ behave _ ." Alaric ordered. 

"Love you, Dad!" the twins called out in unison. 

Alaric sighed as the twins led Rafael away, his exasperation shared by Noel. Honestly, how the Headmaster dealt with all this cattiness was beyond Noel's understanding.

_ Exhibit A of what happens when you don't pay attention to your children.  _ Noel thought bitterly.  _ They act up.  _

"So," Alaric smiled at Landon. "Let's get started." 

The boy looked at Alaric in stunned silence as the Headmaster guided him through the door. 

As the two entered the foyer, Hope strode in after them, with Noel following close behind. 

"Hello, Noel." Hope acknowledged, keeping her eyes forward. 

"Hope." Noel inclined his head. "Have an eventful trip?" 

"Travelled to the middle of Georgia state in the middle of the night to help a newly-triggered wolf." the girl recounted mirthlessly. "In a church.  _ Right  _ in the middle of a full moon." 

"Lemme guess." Noel groaned. " _ Catholics _ ? Mistook a werewolf change for a demon or something?" 

"Yep." Hope said, popping the 'p'. "Exorcism and everything." 

Noel shook his head, resisting the urge to smile.  _ Classic Catholics.  _

"Slow down!" Alaric suddenly called out, three junior students running past him. 

Noel watched the students disappear up the stairs before his eyes turned back to Landon. 

"So what's  _ his  _ story?" Noel asked. 

Hope's eyes fell on Landon, her pastel-pink lips curving upwards in a smile. 

"That's Landon." she answered. "Rafael's adoptive brother." 

She looked Noel in the eye. 

" _ Not  _ supernatural." 

Hope almost managed to hide her amusement, but a light grin betrayed her true feelings. 

With the way Noel and Hope walked beside each other, one could almost make the impression that the two were friends. But they would be wrong. Because much like the supernatural world itself, nothing was that simple - especially friendships. 

Hope and Noel got along. They often found themselves in each other's company. And they might even share similar worldviews. 

But they were not friends. Like a wild bear and a game hunter - similar core values and roles, but nothing personal. The Salvatore School had a funny way of bringing outcasts together.

Noel half-laughed. "A werewolf and a hipster. What a terrifying combination." 

"Be nice." Hope warned him. "Landon used to live here in Mystic Falls. We hung out a couple of times." 

Noel's eyes boggled.  _ Hang out _ ? Since when does Hope Mikaelson' hang out' with someone?

Hanging out to  _ dry _ , or hanging someone with a  _ rope _ for ticking her off -  _ that  _ Noel understood. 

But Hope 'Keep Your Distance' Mikaelson hanging  _ out  _ with someone? What sort of twisted parallel universe was this? 

"But wait," Noel realized. "If he's not supernatural, then…" 

Hope nodded. "He's human.  _ Yes _ ."

A phantom hand squeezed Noel's heart. "Then are you sure it's a good idea to bring him in here like this-"

"Relax." Hope told him. "We've just gotta get some information about Rafael out of him first." 

She looked at him smugly. 

"Want us to find out if he's single?" 

"Oh, ha-ha." Noel half-laughed. "You know I draw the line at werewolves. Just because I'm experimenting doesn't mean I'm  _ desperate _ ." 

Hope shook her head wryly as Alaric looked back at them, giving Hope a knowing look. 

"So," Noel deduced, looking at Landon carefully. "Interrogation first and compulsion later?" 

"That's the plan…" Hope answered. 

The two reached the Headmaster's office, Alaric pushing through with Landon as Hope held the door open for them. 

Alaric took a seat behind his desk, the words exchanged between him and Landon fading into white noise as Noel flopped onto a small armchair. 

Swinging his legs over the left arm, Noel looked at Landon carefully, Hope's words nagging at the boy's mind. 

_ Interrogation first and compulsion later? That's the plan _ . 

Such reassuring and rational words. But why did they make Noel feel so uneasy? 


	5. The Benefactor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noel fears what Landon's presence could mean for the students of the Salvatore Boarding School and when MG attempts to compel the boy's memories away, his fears are realized. How will Noel react to this new 'threat' to the schools security? 
> 
> Meanwhile, Dr Veronica Greasley and Triad Industries prepare themselves to receive an important guest - a mysterious benefactor from overseas. But despite their obligations to this enigmatic businessman, nothing is as it seems...

Sometimes, Noel  _ hated  _ being right. 

The moments after he and Hope entered Alaric's office with Landon were as the Mikaelson girl had promised; just standard, routine questions. 

Landon, though failing to leave any meaningful impression on Noel, answered the questions thoroughly and without resistance. 

All normal, routine questions. 

That is, until, Alaric got to the question that had been plaguing everyone's minds: 

_ Who did Rafael kill recently?  _

"W-Why would you ask me that?!" 

Noel sat on the window alcove to Alaric's right, picking pieces of lint off a red pillow as Landon's jaw dropped. 

"The werewolf gene lies dormant until the carrier takes a human life," Alaric explained. He flipped open the manilla file on his desk, steepling his fingers. "If Rafael triggered his curse, it's...because he killed someone. And we  _ don't  _ accept cold-blooded killers into our program." 

Alaric spoke those last few words with an added emphasis, causing Landon to squirm in his chair. But the boy quickly regained his nerve, scowling at the headmaster as his hands balled into fists. 

"He's not a killer." he defended. 

Noel shook his head, flicking a piece of lint away. "Well, clearly, you're wrong." 

Hope glared at Noel as he met Landon's gaze, ignoring the anger burning in his olive-green eyes. 

"We might be supernatural," Noel said. "But our world still has rules. And one of them is that a werewolf can't turn unless they've killed someone." 

He leaned back against the window, the midday sun heating the back of his hoodie. 

"Saying that you're a werewolf that hasn't killed anyone is like saying you're a pregnant virgin -  _ very  _ unlikely."

Landon scowled at him. "You think this is  _ funny _ ?" 

"What Noel is  _ trying  _ to say," Alaric interrupted him. "Is that these sorts of things are consistent with a newly triggered wolf. There's no shame in it." 

Landon held his gaze with Alaric, but his eyes softened as Hope put a hand on his arm. 

Seriously, what was with her today?

"I know this is a lot to take in, right now." Hope sighed. "I've been going here since I was  _ seven _ . This is a safe place for people like Rafael. I-It's a home!" 

_ To some people _ . Noel thought bitterly. 

"But if we take him in," Alaric added. "We need to make sure that he isn't a threat." 

Landon looked down, but Noel could see the vacancy in the boy's eyes. As if he were replaying some terrible memory on a loop in his mind. 

"Look," Noel reasoned. "Just because your brother killed someone, doesn't mean that he's a bad guy. Soldiers kill people. Cops kill people. Hell, doctors and pharmacists kill people." 

The witch folded his arms. 

"... We're just trying to make sure that whatever happened wasn't premeditated." 

The glaze in Landon's eyes dissipated, the boy taking an unsteady breath as he walked to the other side of the room. 

"...His girlfriend." Landon finally admitted. "Cassie. Last month he was driving, there was a storm. He took a turn too fast." 

Noel curled a finger over his chin. Killing a loved one in a car accident.  _ That  _ was a new one.

Noel didn't interact with the werewolves as a personal rule, but thanks to the school's rumour mill and Alyssa Chang's gossip (Jed was  _ very  _ talkative during their booty calls), plenty of people knew about the packs' first kills. 

A couple of brawls gone wrong, some drunk arguments that got heated and a few more from kids snapping at their abusive parents. But nothing like what Rafael had been involved with.  _ Poor bastard.  _

"-ou for that, Landon." Noel heard Alaric say, realising that he had zoned out of the conversation. "Hope?" 

Noel registered the look on Alaric's face; the tension in his jaw and the stoicism in his eyes. Throw in the concern on Hope's face, and it wasn't hard to guess what was happening next: 

They were cutting Landon loose. 

As if on cue, Hope took a solemn step forward, slipping her hand into Landon's. 

"... Everything's gonna be okay", she reassured him. "I promise." 

Noel rolled his eyes. Jesus Christ, was he being compelled or undergoing  _ brain surgery?!  _

Landon looked at the three of them confusedly (something he seemed to be doing a lot of, Noel thought) until the office door opened. 

Not a moment later, a boy walked in, an African-American kid with a textured afro, white sneakers and the biggest grin Landon had ever seen. 

"Landon Kirby," Alaric introduced. "Milton Greasl-"

"MG." Noel corrected him. "This is MG." 

The boy, MG, smiled at Noel appreciatively as Alaric cleared his throat. 

"Right. I'm sorry." the headmaster apologised. "Take it from a guy named 'Alaric'. Landon, MG is my student aide and-" 

"Tick-Tock, Doc." Noel cut him off. "Can we get this show on the road?" 

"He's also a vampire." Hope added, glaring at Noel. 

"Of course he is..." Landon swallowed. "Y'know, for a school with a secret to keep, you're kind of liberal with your information." 

"New kid's got a point, Doc." Noel snorted. "Sure you don't wanna give him your social security number while you're at it?"

"That won't be necessary." Alaric said, rolling his eyes at Noel's sarcasm. "Besides, we don't intend for him to remember any of this anyway."

Landon's bushy eyebrows furrowed as MG placed a firm hand on his shoulder. 

"Forget everything you've seen or heard since last night..." 

Noel zoned out as MG began performed the compulsion on Landon, a phantom weight lifting from the witch's chest. 

Great, the sooner they compelled Landon to forget all about today, the sooner that  _ Noel  _ could too. Honestly, who would have thought some blank-faced hipster would be so much trouble-

"Are you out of your minds?!" 

Noel snapped out of his daze as Landon swatted MG's hand away, the sight of which sent a cold wave through Noel's body. 

What the  _ fuck  _ just happened?! 

But somehow, Noel already knew the answer. And judging by the panic on Hope and Alaric's faces, so did they. 

The compulsion didn't work! 

"MG, did you do it wrong?!" Hope gasped. 

MG shirked backwards as Landon glared at him. 

"N-No, I didn't 'do it wrong'!" he defended. "This is the easiest vampire trick in the book!" 

"Well, it didn't work!" 

"O-Obviously it didn't work!" 

The room quickly descended into panic as MG argued his case, the group dumbfounded by Landon's resistance. 

Noel watched in stunned silence as Hope and MG argued, assessing the situation himself. 

No. MG  _ had  _ done the compulsion correctly. He had looked Landon dead in the eye, without blinking, and spoke as clearly as could be. 

If there were any problems with the compulsion, they were from Landon's end. 

And to Noel's recollection, there was only one thing that could prevent a human from being compelled. 

_ Vervain _ . 

But as soon as Noel made that deduction, his gaze fell back onto Landon, the boy's eyes darting back and forth towards the open doorway. 

Noel's eyes flashed. Oh, no you don't!

_ "Ad Sonum!"  _ he called out. 

The spell took effect immediately, Landon's olive-green eyes rolling backwards as he flopped face-first onto the floor. 

The entire room went silent the second Landon collapsed. 

Hope's jaw dropped. "What the hell was that?" 

"Me doing damage control." Noel answered her sharply. 

Without another word, the witch pounced on Landon's unconscious form, his eyes narrowed like a hawk as he rummaged around Landon's clothes. He pulled back Landon's collar, his hoodie sleeves, his trouser legs, even hair - as if looking for something.

"What are you doing?" Alaric asked, folding his arms. 

"For jewellery," Noel answered him. "Anything that could hold vervain."

He frowned at the headmaster. 

"Which is something that  _ you  _ should have done the second you picked him up!" 

Alaric ignored him as Noel stood up, sighing. 

"No vervain accessories. Which means the vervain's internal." 

Hope sighed as she registered Noel's deduction, her auburn eyebrows creasing. 

"The gas station outside of town. The Sheriff must have re-stocked the coffee with vervain." 

Noel swore under his breath.  _ That goddamned Sheriff!  _

"Well, it doesn't matter now." Alaric sighed. He threw open the door, glancing at MG. 

"Could you grab him, please? We gotta get him to the cellars before he wakes up!" 

MG nodded and scooped Landon up by the shoulders as Noel leaned down. 

"Alright, I'll get his legs and-" 

But Hope dove in between them, shoving a forceful hand in Noel's face. 

"You've done enough." the tribrid snapped. "We'll take it from here." 

Noel's jaw dropped as she stood up, unable to process the girl's words until she was already halfway out the door. 

"What?!" Noel exclaimed. "But all I did was knock him out!" 

But Hope ignored him, holding the door open as MG and Alaric carried Landon out. Noel cursed and stormed out after them, ignoring the students that were watching the drama unfold. 

"Well, excuse me for being the only one of us who gives a shit about the school's safety! Ugh, fuck my li-" 

The floorboards creaked behind Noel, a small form diving into an alcove behind a potted plant. 

Noel reined in his temper and peered at the plant warily, a curly-haired child staring back at him. 

"Pedro?" Noel asked. "What are you doing?" 

The child, Pedro, crept out from his hiding spot, an anxious expression on his mouse-like face. 

He looked down, fiddling with the hem of his sky-blue dress shirt. 

"Hey," Noel soothed, kneeling down. "C'mon little man, what's up?"

"...I didn't do my homework." Pedro finally said. "It was too hard, and I couldn't finish it...so I hid during class..." 

Noel fought the urge to smile. "You skipped class, huh? You little rebel."

Pedro seemed to shrink to half his size as Noel spoke, murmuring worriedly as he bowed his curly head. 

"Hey, c'mon little man," Noel reassured, patting Pedro's head. "I was just teasing. I didn't mean it." 

The witch reached for a half-inch thick textbook in Pedro's hand, the word 'FRACTIONS' scrawled across it in tasteless, purple block letters. 

"Fractions, huh?" Noel mused. "Yay..." 

The young man looked once at Pedro and then down the hallway. 

Hope, Alaric and MG were nowhere to be seen, long disappeared down the stairs with Landon. The crowd from before was dispersing and the last time he checked, that handsome-ish werewolf from earlier was still with Lizzie and Josie.

Which means he had free time. 

Without another word, Noel leaned in closer towards Pedro, wobbling the book with a sly smile on his face. 

"How about I help you out with some of these?" the witch offered. "Maths isn't my best subject but I can probably help you get the gist of this." 

He lowered his voice to a whisper. 

"And  _ maybe _ , we'll grab some of those cookies from the kitchens?" 

Pedro's eyes lit up at the mention of 'cookies', the child nodding rapidly as Noel stood up and handed him the textbook. 

"But if anyone asks why you aren't in class," Noel advised. "You tell 'em I'm taking you to the sickbay, okay?" 

Pedro nodded in agreement and packing his book away, followed Noel down the hall. 

***********

Veronica Greasley was bored. 

This had been the third meeting today. In the same, icy-cold board room, discussing the same tired old marketing and military strategies. 

"So you can see by Figure C, that our response teams are reporting to us much slower than normal..." 

A glassed young woman at the front had been droning on for the last twelve minutes, her deadpan voice sucking out Veronica's enthusiasm and that of the other board members. 

Honestly, all this monster activity in the world and they were talking about  _ marketing _ ? 

Witch schools being established in Western Europe, vampire activity in New Orleans, monster sightings in Mexico and South Africa; to say nothing of whatever the hell was going on in Georgia state. And yet  _ this  _ was how they were spending their time? 

Her father entrusted her with Triad Industries to safeguard humanity and the Malivore Pit - not sit around in a board room all day. 

But her boredom was short-lived as a loud whirring sound filled the air, the entire room shaking as a large shape crossed the windows.

A helicopter. 

The moment that realisation crossed her mind, the door opened, a security guard giving Veronica an urgent look. 

"Dr Greasley?" he inquired. "He's here. The benefactor." 

Veronica pursed her lips as the guard left, the other board members looking at her in confusion. 

He was early. 

But she ignored her suspicions, closing the manilla folder in front of her and uncrossing her legs. 

"That will be all, everyone." the woman cleared her throat. "We will conclude the meeting here and reconvene next Thursday." 

The board members rose to their feet, bowing their heads and leaving while Veronica finished her notes. 

As the board members left the room, another figure slinked in through the doorway; a gangly man in a suit with black curly hair and a snake-like smile. 

"Dr Greasley." he greeted. 

"...Agent Clarke." Veronica acknowledged him, not bothering to look him in the eye. "Has our 'guest' arrived safely?" 

"Yes." Clarke nodded. "And I'm pretty sure he's early. Without sounding too pedantic." 

Veronica sighed as she stood up, wedging the folders under her right arm. 

"So it would seem," she answered passively. "But regardless, we have important matters to discuss with him." 

Clarke's vicious smirk widened, a crude expression that made Veronica's skin crawl. 

Was he just that excited for the meeting? Or did he kick some puppies before work today? 

"Money, money, money." he hummed. "Is that what we're going to discuss, doctor?" 

The two fell into line as they left the board room; Clarke walking on Veronica's left as the woman tried to keep as much distance from him as possible. 

"Triad Industries is neither inexpensive to run nor an official branch of government, Agent Clarke." the woman chided. "It's donations from people like our benefactor that keep the lights on." 

The two came to a stop at a faded brown elevator, the doors parting open as Veronica waved a red keycard across a rusted scanner. 

She and Clarke stepped inside, his pasty skin a milky-yellow under the bright lights above them. 

"So how much is the old man paying you, anyway?" Clarke finally asked. 

"That's Mr Rokubi." Veronica corrected him. "And the amount that Mr Rokubi generously donates is classified." 

But Clarke wasn't discouraged. If Anything, Veronica's passive and secretive answers only piqued his curiosity further. 

"Is it true what they say about him? That he owns half the tech companies in Japan? That he has some members of the Diet Government in his pocket?" 

"If you have time to believe baseless rumours, Agent Clarke," Veronica sneered. "Then might I suggest you take that time and do proper research on Mr Rokubi's background?" 

The whirring of the helicopter's blades grew louder as they exited the elevator. The vehicle was a flawless ebony black, with a dark but shiny surface reminiscent of a starless night. The exterior was featureless, however, save for a white animal decal on the doorway and rudder. 

The helicopter finally landed, a fearsome  _ whoosh _ tearing through the air as Veronica approached, with Clarke a few feet behind. 

As the blades came to a halt, two Triad guards approached the helicopter door, drawing it back as an elderly man hobbled out. 

The man was Japanese, with wrinkled, sun-kissed skin and combed back silver-white hair. He wore a simple black tuxedo, with a grey  _ haori  _ shawl draped over his shoulders. 

As he left the helicopter, the man produced a walking cane, a bandaged stick that supported his hunched, kyphotic frame. 

But despite his poor posture and age, the man wore a bright smile, grinning from ear to ear like a daruma doll. 

_ Mr Rokubi.  _

"Remember your place, Agent Clarke." 

Clarke frowned, his beady eyes narrowing as a second man stood up inside the helicopter. 

"Oh, I will." he acquiesced. "If Rokubi's little attack dog watches his." 

Veronica watched as the other man - Rokubi's 'attack dog' - exited the helicopter. 

Like Rokubi, the second man was Japanese, but the similarities ended there. 

Whereas Rokubi was an older man with a shorter, kyphotic posture, the second man was the opposite. He was tall and youthful, no older than thirty, with a chiselled face one might consider striking, were it not so stark and emotionless. 

As he exited the helicopter, he straightened his beige suit jacket and moved to Rokubi's right side, running a hand through his slick, ebony hair. 

Exchanging some brief words, Rokubi held out his arm to the younger man, the latter leading him towards Veronica and Clarke. As they got closer, the younger of the two reached into his jacket pocket, placing a pair of vantablack sunglasses over his eyes. 

"Mr Rokubi." Veronica greeted the elder of the two. "Welcome to Triad Industries. Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice." 

She bowed her head lightly, a gesture returned by Rokubi. 

"And to you, Mr Inkune." she feigned a smile. "Always a pleasure." 

The younger man, Inkune, nodded as Rokubi did but showed no delight in the gesture. 

"Dr Greasley." he acknowledged her, his voice stern and monotone. "And Mr Clarke."

Clarke narrowed his eyes. "Agent Clarke." 

"Either all." Inkune dismissed, lifting his nose. 

As Clarke stared the younger man down, Rokubi suddenly began to speak. 

His words were, unfortunately, in Japanese, but they were spoken with a particular strength and clarity - as if he were some sort of monk. 

"Mr Rokubi conveys his greetings and salutations." Inkune translated. "And also expresses his thanks for arranging this meeting with minimal fuss." 

Veronica forced a smile again, indicating to the door behind them. 

"Please inform Mr Rokubi that we are ready to conduct business as soon as-"

But Inkune shook his head, taking a light step forward. 

"I think, Dr Greasley," the man tucked his hands behind his back. "That we should allow Mr Rokubi sufficient rest before we proceed." 

He gave Rokubi a concerned look, the elder smiling at him nonchalantly. 

"Not to sound ageist, but I'm sure you can understand the effects that long-distance travel can have on someone of Mr Rokubi's age." 

Veronica looked at Rokubi and Inkune uneasily, trying to find some way to convince them to conclude their business as soon as possible. 

But the moment that she found the words, Veronica found them being forced back down her throat as Inkune glared at her - venom seething from behind his vantablack lenses. 

Her throat tightened as she held his gaze, Clarke looking on with disbelief as her body froze up.

Surely she wasn't going to let these people order her around like this? 

"...Very well." the woman caved. "Please follow us to the board room. We can bring in some refreshments for you and Mr. Rokubi." 

Inkune's cold gaze relented, the man bowing his head as Veronica and Clarke led them inside. 

**********

A chill rippled through the air as the group sat down in the board room. 

Mr. Rokubi sat the chair nearest the door, directly opposite Veronica and Clarke. Inkune sat directly on Rokubi's left, watching a security guard. 

The guard was armed, his hand hovering over a holstered handgun. He watched Inkune as if he were studying some predator, looming over Veronica's shoulder like the Grim Reaper. 

_ A deterrent.  _

"Do you have it?" Veronica finally asked.

Inkune glanced at Rokubi, the elder sipping tea from a metallic mug with a grateful smile. 

The latter inclined his head, smiling like a Laughing Buddha statue. 

Inkune nodded in return and reached down past his chair, placing his suitcase on the table.

A smile crossed Veronica's lips. 

Inkune tapped the case twice before sliding it down the table, the black leather rustling against the steel table. 

Veronica caught it with her right hand, passing it over to the guard on her left. 

"Count it." she told him. 

The guard opened up the case, his eyes glistening greedily as he beheld the contents: 

Money. Lots of it. All in neat stacks of twenty, fifty and one-hundred dollar bills. 

He wasted no time pushing the bills onto the table, counting the money as Inkune looked on with distaste. 

"Call me old-fashioned," Inkune cleared his throat. "But isn't the exchange of money built upon mutual trust?" 

"Trust isn't a luxury that I can indulge." Veronica answered him curtly. "It's a luxury that no amount of money can afford me." 

A mischievous smirk grew on Clarke's lips as he watched the exchange. 

_ Turning on the charm before she got the money and then completely dismissing them when she finally got it. What a contemptible woman… _

But Clarke's musings on Veronica's non-existent morality were suddenly silence as the guard slammed the final stack down, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. 

"It came up short." 

Veronica's eyes narrowed into slits, her gaze wandering over to the smiling Rokubi. 

"...By how much?"

"A couple of thousand." the guard spat. 

Clarke unfolded his arms as the guard tallied the difference, watching as Veronica's brow crinkled, baring her teeth like a lioness.

"What is this?" she seethed. 

Inkune was unfazed by her response, the man leaning back in his chair as he folded his hands over his knee. 

"Apologies for the deception." he said curtly. "But I'm afraid that your payment coincided with some rather important business. The rest of your payment has been put on hold." 

"Why?" Clarke asked. 

"Because Mr. Rokubi has deemed it so." Inkune told him, his eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses. "You must understand, Dr Greasley, that withdrawing such an amount of money can attract the wrong kind of attention. That's not including the fact that we're donating it to a company that - officially speaking - doesn't exist." 

Veronica drew a deep breath, sinking into her chair as Inkune stood up. 

"I'm sure you're well aware of Mr Rokubi's status?" the man asked. "Chairman of the Rokubi Group, CEO of White Fox Technologies, Executive Board Member of more than a dozen other Japan-based groups and one of the most influential businessmen in all of Asia." 

"I am aware of that," Veronica said, tapping her fingers on the table. "Your point?" 

"Besides this, Mr. Rokubi also has numerous friends and acquaintances within the Japanese National Diet. And when one uses the term 'businessman' in conjunction with 'politician', all sorts of nasty little rumours start flitting around - like corruption.

And because of this current socio-political climate, in which people point fingers first and ask questions later - it is imperative that Mr. Rokubi's reputation is unsullied. Do you understand what I am trying to say?" 

Veronica was silent but Clarke was starting to put the pieces together. Was this why he wanted to hold this meeting in secret, so suddenly? 

Rokubi suddenly spoke, speaking directly to Veronica as if he could understand his Japanese. 

"Mr. Rokubi understands the inconvenience that this has caused." Inkune translated. "He apologises and promises that once our personal business is concluded, you will receive your owed amount in its entirety, plus interest." 

Veronica pursed her lips. "And this 'business' is to be completed when?" 

"When it is completed." Inkune told her, his voice stern.

"But our deal states that-"

"Exactly," Inkune cut her off, his tone noticeably sharper. "Your  _ deal _ . And a deal implies that any and all parties walk away with something of equal value. You receive your money and Mr. Rokubi maintains his privacy." 

He shrugged. 

"But, if you feel as though you are being mistreated, then perhaps we should rescind our deal and leave you to another benefactor-" 

Clarke stepped forward, placing a hand over his chest. 

"Now, now," he said, his smile making Inkune's skin crawl. "Let's not be hasty here. It's just that we're doing very secret work here, which means we need to be careful with who we... _ ally  _ ourselves with. Your problems become  _ our  _ problems, if you know what I mean?"

Inkune wrinkled his nose. "Quite." 

The aide folded his gloved hands over his lap again, his deadpan expression earning another chuckle from Rokubi. 

A shrill chirping sound rang out across the room, all eyes falling on Inkune's wristwatch. 

Inkune looked at his watch for a moment, acknowledging the time with an emotionless face. 

"...That concludes our business here." the pale man announced. "Mr Rokubi has another engagement he must attend." 

Veronica pursed her lips.

"Very well then." the woman acquiesced. "Please escort Mr Rokubi and his... _ assistant  _ back to their helicopter."

Inkune rose with a small bow and murmured something to Rokubi in Japanese. 

The elder nodded, sipping the rest of his tea as Inkune helped him to his feet. As Rokubi took hold of his cane, Inkune glanced at Veronica and Clarke, his eyes peering over his vantablack sunglasses. 

"Until next time." 

Neither Veronica or Clarke said anything, the two of them watching in silence as Rokubi and Inkune were led out by a uniformed guard. 

"...Hopefully, not  _ too _ soon." Clarke sneered under his breath. 

And for once, Veronica agreed with him. 

***********

"Have a safe flight back, Mr Rokubi!" 

Rokubi beamed warmly at the Triad guard as he entered the helicopter, followed closely by Inkune. 

"That will be all, thank you." Inkune dismissed. The aide produced a pair of night-black aviator headsets, handing one to Rokubi as the guard stepped back. 

"You're clear for take-off!" he yelled over the whirring helicopter blades. "When you're ready!" 

Rokubi's pilot gave the guard a thumbs-up and pressed several buttons on his console, the helicopter lifting into the air as Inkune closed the door. 

Within moments, the helicopter was airborne. And within minutes after that, Triad Industries was practically gone from sight; a mass of concrete buildings fading into a sun-kissed horizon. 

Inkune sighed apathetically as he toggled his aviator headset, glancing at the smiling Rokubi.

"... _ We are out of their airspace, Master."  _ he said in Japanese.

And the moment Inkune spoke those words, Rokubi stopped smiling. 

The old man narrowed his eyes and rolled back his shoulders, straightening his 'kyphotic' posture. 

Cracking his neck, Rokubi sneered, his wrinkled fingers choking his cane in a sharp death-grip. 

_ "How much longer must I endure the company of these ingrates, Ichiro?"  _ he asked. The Zen-like softness of Rokubi's voice had vanished, replaced with a guttural and spiteful tone. Every word he spat out sounded as though he were fighting back bile. 

_ "I'm afraid that Triad remains a necessary evil, sir."  _ Inkune said, his employer's disgust bringing a smile to his face.  _ "Their operations directly interfere with the supernatural world, which allows us some respite from 'those' troubling us."  _

_ "So long as they don't interfere with  _ our  _ operations."  _ Rokubi scoffed. 

The old man looked out the window of the helicopter, staring into the green expanse of forest below them. 

_ America _ . Rokubi had barely been here three days and he was already tired of it. The loud and cluttered cities, the fugacious, consumerist culture; to say nothing of the disgusting, moronic sheep that the country called 'people' - it made him sick to his stomach. 

But that barely scratched the surface of his apathy, for unbeknownst to everyone but a select few, America had spawned other things. 

_ The supernatural _ . 

Yes. The werewolves had been cursed here. The vampires had been spawned. And the witches had flourished, their twisted craft responsible for the creation of the former two. 

_ Mongrels, parasites and pompous, magic-wielding cockroaches. _ What Rokubi wouldn't give to crush them all under his foot. 

But not now. Right now, he had only  _ one  _ concern. 

_"What of the search?"_ the elder asked, his tone noticeably less hostile._ "Have you found anything?" _

_"Good news and bad news, Master."_ Inkune answered him. The aide produced a manila folder from his briefcase, showing Rokubi three documents. 

_"Our sources confirmed what we already knew,"_ Inkune continued. _"The witch fled the mainland for Okinawa, where she found passage into the United States."_

Rokubi pursed his lips. _"And the bad news?" _

_"The trail runs cold after that, sir. She began covering her tracks the moment she entered California and completely vanished the second she entered into North Dakota."_

A snarl rumbled in Rokubi's throat as snatched the paper from Inkune's hand. The document was a portrait photo of a woman, around her mid-twenties, with fair, ivory skin and hair that tumbled down to her shoulders in wavy, dirty-blonde curls.

_"Retrace her steps in California." _Rokubi ordered him. _"And make doubly sure of the clues gathered by our sources. Bribe them, coerce them, threaten and torture them if you must - so long as you're certain they aren't trying to trick us." _

Inkune bowed his head. _"As you command, Rokubi-sama." _

_"This woman cannot elude us, Inkune. Find her, make an example of those who helped hide her..." _

He squeezed the sides of the paper, crinkling the sides to the point of tearing. 

_"...And take back what she stole from us!" _

_"And what of Triad Industries?"_ Inkune asked.

Rokubi leaned back in his chair, his hands returning to his cane. 

_"As you said, Ichiro, - they are a necessary evil. They're loyal, for now, but we will be ready for their inevitable betrayal." _

Rokubi's gaze returned to the forest outside, hate burning in his eyes like a wildfire. 

_"After all, the wise fox only strikes when the rabbit bears its throat..." _


	6. Summons Of Fire & Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the chaos of Landon's 'arrival' at the Salvatore School, Noel helps the young witch Pedro with his maths homework, facing sad truths in the process. But that will be nothing compared to what he faces later that terrible night...   
Meanwhile, the Japanese elder, Hiromitsu Rokubi, awaits answers on his search for a mysterious female witch... 
> 
> (Any text surrounded with "<" and ">" indicates that the dialogue is in Japanese, NOT English.)

"Alright, little man, final question." 

Noel's words stoked a fire of determination within Pedro's eyes, the child staring at his elder intently. 

The two witches had been sitting in the kitchens for almost two hours now, mulling over some fractions work from Pedro's math class. Each correct answer earned Pedro some hearty praise and a giant cookie; generously 'donated' by the Salvatore School's pantry. 

Two fractions pages and three cookie boxes later, Pedro was well on his way to becoming a maths prodigy. 

Turns out baked goods and sweets do wonders for Maths Anxiety. 

But Noel digressed.

The witch slid three medium-sized cookies across the metal tabletop, tapping a black, polished fingernail on the open page. Of the forty practice questions they had gone through, only three remained. 

"Your move, Pedro." 

Noel smirked and folded his arms as Pedro looked at the page, his little nose scrunched and his eyes narrowed with focus.

_ So adorable _ . Noel thought warmly. 

After a moment's pause, Pedro scribbled his answer into the book, holding it up to Noel with expectant eyes:   
  


"3/1," Noel read aloud. "Equals 3. Correct."   
  


Noel acknowledged the rightmost of the three cookies. Pedro quickly snatched it up into his hands and nibbled at it like a mouse with a cube of cheese. 

"Next one." Noel instructed. 

Pedro finished the cookie and looked down at the page, again taking a moment before answering:   
  


"46/12," Noel read. "Becomes 23/6. And what sort of fraction are we left with?"   
  


"An im-popper fraction." Pedro murmured, his feet swinging underneath his stool. "That's when the number on the top is bigger than the bottom one." 

"Very good." Noel praised. "But remember, it's called an  _ improper _ fraction, okay? Im. Prop. Er. Got it?" 

Pedro nodded affirmatively as Noel handed him the second cookie, grinning like a Cheshire Cat as Pedro ate it within two bites. 

And now, only one question remained:   
  


"15/6," Noel smirked. "Think you can handle it, little man?"   
  


" _ Yes _ !" Pedro pouted, folding his arms in a huff. 

Noel laughed under his breath as Pedro wrote his final answer:   
  


"15/6 becomes 2 and 3/6. Good."   
  


Pedro's smile gleamed brighter than the Sun, the youth reaching for the last cookie...

...But Noel drew it back, wiggling a disapproving finger. 

"...But not quite good  _ enough."  _

Pedro raised his eyebrows, looking at Noel as if he had suffered the most unspeakable of betrayals. He glanced at the cookie, then to Noel, down at the page and then right back to Noel - his puppy-dog eyes in full-effect. 

"Hey, don't look at me like that." Noel sighed. "The answer is right, but something's missing." 

"What?" Pedro asked. 

Noel chuckled. "You're supposed to figure that out on your own,  _ silly _ . You wouldn't be learning if  _ I _ tell you the answer." 

He tapped the equation Pedro wrote with a pencil. 

"Here's a hint," he said, circling the '3/6'. "It has something to do with this bit here." 

Pedro stared at the page for a moment more until his eyes lit up with realisation and corrected his answer.   
  


"15/6 = 2 3/6 = 2 1/2."    
  


" _ Much _ better." Noel clapped, handing Pedro the last of the cookies. The elder took a moment to watch Pedro eat, a proud smile growing at the edge of his lips. 

It made him happy to see Pedro like this, to see him confident and proud of his ability. He had known Pedro since the boy's first day at the Salvatore School. That friendly but intimidated child, too frightened of his own shadow to even contemplate something as  _ genuinely  _ frightening as magic. 

But now, with the support of the Salvatore School staff, his peers (and in no small part to Noel's guidance), Pedro had become a standout student amongst the junior students. 

Every smile Pedro smiled, every kid that he befriended and every teacher he amazed, always made Noel wonder, what if things had been as easy for him? 

If he hadn't been born with fucked up magic. 

If he hadn't been exiled from the coven. 

If he hadn't been dumped at the school like a reeking sack of trash. 

Noel grit his teeth. 

...If he could control his magic. If the other students weren't scared of him. If his arms weren't covered in scars and burns. 

Noel drew a sharp breath inward. 

If he wasn't that 'skinny scarred kid'. If he had someone looking out for him that wasn't some teacher paid to give a damn about his problems. If Alyssa didn't make it her mission to turn the coven against him. If Jed and his pack didn't laugh and kick the shit out of him every time they met in the halls. If he had a friend in the world that wasn't a co-dependent siphoner. If he- 

Noel stopped. He relaxed his jaw and wound up shoulders, releasing a shaky breath. 

...No. That was the past. Something that was out of Noel's hands. 

He couldn't just sit by and wallow, to wear his shame and past like some heavy, stifling cloak while other kids were being brought here. 

Noel couldn't teach them magic, and he certainly couldn't shield them from the horrors of the supernatural community. But he would do his absolute damnedest to make sure that every one of them felt welcome and looked after. That they had a friend watching out for them, an elder to look to and, if need be, a shoulder to cry on. 

Luxuries that Noel was never afforded when he was Pedro's age. 

"...oel?" 

Noel's broody thoughts came to a crashing halt as Pedro called out to him, the child looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

"...Yeah, Pedro?" Noel asked, regaining his composure. 

"It's all done." Pedro pointed at his homework. 

"Oh...right, yeah." Noel cleared his throat. "Are you sure that's everything? Do you need to work on any other subjects you aren't sure about?" 

Pedro shook his head. "No, that's all the homework the teacher gave us." 

He gave Noel a toothy smile as he finished his cookie, licking the smudged bits of chocolate chip off his fingertips. 

"You're a  _ wayyy _ better at teaching than he is. And the other witches too." 

Noel half-laughed as he packed up Pedro's textbook and worksheets. "You went to the other members of the coven for help?" 

"Yeah, but they weren't very nice to me." Pedro frowned, looking down as he swung his feet. "They were too busy and kept saying that 'I should be hanging out with the other kids'..." 

Noel rolled his eyes. Typical Salvatore Witches... 

"I asked Alyssa 'cos she's super, duper smart and all, but she said she was 'too busy with her 'perfemm'."

"Perfume." Noel corrected him. 

"And then I asked Wade, but he didn't know much about fractions. Then Cain, then Druscilla, Penelope and Lizzie-" 

"Wait," Noel exclaimed. "You really asked Lizzie for help?" 

Pedro nodded. "Yeah, but she said-" 

"Don't ever listen to what Lizzie says, man." Noel sighed. "And  _ never  _ ask her to do anything for you. Unless it'll benefit  _ her _ in some way, she won't do it." 

Noel sighed, folding the last of the worksheets away.

"Trust me, Pedro, she can be a real bit-"

But Noel stopped himself before he could finish, reconsidering his words as Pedro stared at him innocently and intently. 

"Uhhh," the witch stammered. "A...um..bi...big...big...meanie! Yeah, she can be a real big meanie!" 

Noel mentally chastised himself for saying something so childish, a sentiment shared by Pedro, who looked at him with a frown.

"...She's not  _ that  _ mean." Pedro defended, angling his head. 

Noel couldn't help but shake his head. Honestly, Pedro was too kind for his own good. 

The witch tucked Pedro's books away into the boy's brown leather school-bag when suddenly, a folded piece of paper slipped from the textbook pages and onto the floor.

_ Huh?  _

Noel hopped off his seat to pick it up. It was a tri-folded sheet of plain paper, covered from top to bottom in neat, cursive writing.

Paper-clipped to the very top of the letter was a crinkled photograph; of a beautiful, curly-haired woman standing on a beach in a sundress with a small child in her arms: 

_ 'Pedro and Mama _ ' the caption read.  _ '2025.'  _

Noel couldn't help but smile. "Is this your mom?"

Pedro nodded bashfully, grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire Cat.

"...Yeah. She and Daddy live really _ , really  _ far away but she always sends me letters 'n pictures." 

"That's nice of her," Noel smirked. His eyes wandered back to the photo, falling upon Pedro's mother. 

There was something attractive about the picture, something that drew Noel in. Not Pedro's mother  _ per se _ (Noel wouldn't dishonour Pedro like that) but the  _ feeling  _ about her. The joy on her face, that bright, guileless smile and the gentle strength radiating from her as she held the infant Pedro in her slender, sun-kissed arms. 

So much emotion. Warmth. Happiness.  _ Love _ . Was this how mothers felt around their children? 

"Do you get letters from your mama too, Noel?" 

Pedro's words caught Noel off-guard and struck like a hot blade to the elder's heart. 

"...No, little man." Noel murmured. "Not me." 

Noel ignored Pedro's confused expression and looked back to the photo, staring at the smiling woman a moment more. But the longer he looked, the sooner Noel felt the warmth in his heart dissipate; replaced by a nauseating, twisted knot in his stomach. 

Within moments, his eyes were overcome with a stinging sensation and tears threatened to fall; an emotional shift that Noel tried (and failed) to hide.

"Are you okay, Noel?" Pedro asked, shirking back in his chair. 

Noel snapped out of his daze. 

"Um, y-yeah." the witch lied, clearing his throat. "Just...um...hayfever, allergies and stuff." 

Pedro opened his mouth to ask another question, but Noel quickly stood up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 

"You're very lucky to get letters like this, Pedro. Make sure you look after them, okay?" 

Noel folded the photo back up within the letter and slid it back into Pedro's textbook, touselling the boy's curly hair. 

"C'mon," he encouraged. "Let's get you outta here, huh?" 

Pedro nodded emphatically as he hopped off his stool, putting on his backpack as he followed Noel outside. The two witches left the kitchens and crossed the corridors into the hallway, exchanging little conversation until they reached the stairwell to the Junior Student Dorms: 

"Now, remember the story we agreed on," Noel began, stopping Pedro as they arrived at the stairs. "What was the reason that you skipped class?" 

"...Because I wasn't feeling well." Pedro answered, fiddling with a loose, yellow thread on his shirt. 

"Right." Noel nodded. "And who will vouch for you?" 

"You will," Pedro said. "Because you saw me being sick near Dr Saltzman's office." 

"... _ And _ ?" 

"And I hafta fake a tummy ache to make them think I'm telling the truth." 

"...Which shouldn't be too hard with all those cookies you ate." Noel chuckled. "You okay from here?" 

Pedro nodded reluctantly, his eyes glazed over with unease. 

Noel didn't like putting Pedro in this position either. But regardless of the reasons and who he was with, the fact remained that Pedro had skipped class; something no amount of finished fractions work would ever overturn. 

Jesus, even  _ supernatural _ school teachers were hardasses... 

"If you run into any more problems," Noel smiled. "Homework or otherwise, you come find me, and I'll help you out, okay?" 

Pedro beamed, the anxiety on his face melting away as he threw his arms around Noel's waist - pulling the witch into an embarrassed hug. 

"Okay, okay," Noel laughed, pulling himself away. "Don't get all emotional on me..." 

Looking away, Pedro adjusted his backpack and ran up the stairs, disappearing in a chorale of footfalls and childish laughter. 

And the second Pedro was out of sight, Noel slumped forward against the bannister, heaving a heavy sigh. 

The witch stood there for a moment, lightly banging his head against the backs of his hands. 

What the hell was he doing? What was he trying to achieve, an outcast like him trying to give Pedro life advice? To teach him about being a good student and son?

Pedro's question rung hauntingly in his mind, like church bells. 

_ Do you get letters from your mama too, Noel? _

_ Of course not.  _ Noel answered the question coldly in his mind. 

He finally lifted his head, marching down the hall and forcing a scowl as he wiped his damp eyelids. 

... _ Not unless they start sending letters from the afterlife.  _

**********

The dry heat of the fireplace rolled over Rokubi in waves of marigold light, the elder sinking into his high-backed ebony chair. 

It had been almost half a day since his meeting with Dr Greasley at Triad Industries. The arrangement had cost him millions of dollars; an agreeable loss were it not for the hours of patience taken along with it. 

Rokubi grumbled under his breath, nursing a glass of lukewarm sake against the folds of his dressing gown. 

But sooner or later, the tiresome day must kowtow to the quiet respite of the night. And a secluded manor in the middle of the New York State Forest was as 'quiet' as it could get. 

_ "<Any more news, Ichiro?>"  _ Rokubi asked the man at his side. 

_ "<No further news, Rokubi-sama>,"  _ Inkune answered. He stood firmly by Rokubi's chair, the man's lean frame casting a long shadow over the ornate Shinto artworks adorning the stone walls around them. "< _ So far, the only progress we have been able to make is ascertaining that our quarry is  _ not  _ within any northern states. In addition to the other dead-ends, we have now eliminated the states of Minnesota, South Dakota, Illinois and Wisconsin from our lists>."  _

Rokubi leaned back into his chair as a low cracking sound reverberated in the air. Inkune couldn't tell if the sound came from master's chair or his knuckles tightening on his cane. 

_ "<...Send for the witch>."  _ the old man ordered. 

Inkune's frame stiffened. 

_ "<Rokubi-sama,"  _ he cleared his throat.  _ "It was a long journey to this manor from Georgia state. And it has been a long day. Perhaps it would be best if you retired for the eve- >." _

_ "<I am  _ old _ , Ichiro."  _ Rokubi spat.  _ "<Not  _ decrepit.  _ Bring the witch in here,  _ now _ >."  _

Inkune drew a sharp breath and faced the study entryway. " _ <Enter!>"  _

The study doors parted immediately, a balding man in a snowy-white yukata hurrying in. 

_ "<R-Rokubi-sama>."  _ the man bowed, patting away the sweat from his rosy cheeks.  _ "<What is it that you need?>"  _

_ "<Commence the ritual>,"  _ Rokubi ordered.  _ "Summon *them* here>."  _

_ The witch raised his head. Enough that Inkune noticed the gesture but not so much that their eyes met. "<H-How many of them, my Lord?>"  _

_ "<All of them>."  _ Rokubi snarled.  _ "<Every single one in this wretched country. We must regroup and change our tactics if we are to find our quarry>."  _

The witch swallowed, bowing his head anxiously. Averting his eyes, the man hurried towards the fireplace, a hearth of black marble inlaid with gold  _ kintsugi _ and took down a single mask from the mantel. 

Studying the mask closely, the witch reached into the sleeve of his yukata and produced a gold, ceremonial knife. 

_ "<With your permission, Rokubi-sama?>"  _

Rokubi pursed his lips. Putting down his glass of  _ sake _ , the old man rolled back the sleeve of his dressing-gown, baring his naked forearm to the witch. 

The witch took a step forward, his gilded blade gleaming in the light. But Inkune moved  _ with  _ him, catching the witch's sleeve with a stern grip. 

_ "<...Not too much>." _ the aide warned. 

The witch nodded as he drew the blade down Rokubi's arm, the crimson blood almost black against Rokubi's fair skin. Gathering enough blood to coat the edge of the blade, the witch set the mask on the floor and held the knife to his chest. 

_ "... _ 六美卿の血であなたを召喚します _ "  _ he incanted, flicking the knife blade towards the mask. 

The spell took effect immediately. 

The second that the droplets of blood met the floor, the mask's vacant eyes lit up; the floorboards rattling restlessly. 

"...六美卿の血であ." the witch continued, flicking more blood onto the mask. "...なたを召喚します." 

By now, the whole manor was shaking; every floorboard, decorative wall and wooden panel heaving and groaning in all directions. 

But despite the chaos, Rokubi sat firmly in his chair, his eyes  _ oozing  _ with spite as he perused the folder Inkune gave him on the helicopter. 

_ "<We will find her, Rokubi-sama>."  _ Inkune encouraged.  _ "<It is only a matter of time before she suffers for her transgressions>."  _

_ "<'Suffers', Ichiro?>"  _ Rokubi sneered.  _ <"Oh no, she will  _ beg _ for suffering...>."  _

_ The older man stood up, ignoring the witch's chants and the quaking walls around him as he tossed the manila folder into the fire but kept a grip on the photograph within it.  _

_ The 'woman'. The image of her soft, fair-skinned face and dirty-blonde curls burned Rokubi's eyes as if the elder were staring into the face of the sun.  _

_ And it  _ sickened  _ him.  _

_ "<I  _ will  _ find her, Ichiro. Even if I have to raze the entire country to do it...>"  _

Rokubi closed his fist, crumpling the photo between his wrinkled fingers. 

_ "<...And when I do, I will rip that traitorous whore limb from bloody limb..!">  _

And without another word, he tossed the photo into the fire. 

**********

Noel exhaled loudly as he downed the contents of his red plastic cup, shutting his eyes as he let the alcohol buzz through his body. 

The Old Mill night party had been going for almost three hours, but the revelry and mirth were still going strong. Noel was no anthropologist, but if tonight was any indication, it seemed like the only way to make the school factions get along was by getting them  _ drunk.  _

"Sure you don't wanna slow down, brah?" someone to Noel's left asked. "I mean,  _ damn _ , that's your third drink in the last  _ hour _ ." 

Noel turned on the wood log to see Kaleb Hawkins beside him; the vampire looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a smug smile. 

"...And it's not gonna be my last." Noel chuckled. " _ Loooong  _ day." 

Kaleb shook his head with a wry smile, the other dozen vampires around the fire laughing with him. 

"Hey N, we're not judging here." another vampire (a  _ handsome  _ one at that, Noel thought) spoke up. "Just sayin' that you take a spill and cut yourself..." 

His voice trailed off as he indicated to the other vampires. "Y'know..." 

But Noel shrugged off the boy's warning, reaching into an ice bucket at the end of the log. 

"Calm down, Marc," the youth snickered. "I'm not that drunk. Yet." 

The other vampire - Marc - smiled, his bleached buzzcut yellow under the firelight. 

"Besides..." Noel smirked, running a finger down Marc's lips. "It's not like you haven't given me a good  _ necking  _ before, is it?" 

Marc's smile disappeared, the vampire blushing furiously as Noel sat back down on the wood log beside Kaleb; who was barely containing his laughter. 

Hanging out with the vampires wasn't like involving yourself with the other Salvatore School factions. The werewolves were too xenophobic and wary of any non-wolves and being a part of the covens meant walking a line that Noel couldn't toe (i.e. his little 'display' in magic class yesterday). 

But the vampires weren't beholden to such prejudices. They accepted one another freely, without hostility and held no misgivings about any vampires being 'different' from the others. 

'Vamps Before Tramps' as Kaleb was fond of saying.

"No, like  _ Twilight _ ruined all vampire mythos." 

A smile crossed Noel's lips as he recognised a familiar voice near the fire pit. 

"Okay, y'all want reality," MG extolled to two other vampires. "Y'all got to go old-school. Okay, my man Blade... He is the  _ GOAT _ . His crazy mom was all,  _ "You wouldn't kill me." _ And then, he's all,  _ "I must release you." _ ." 

Noel couldn't help but laugh as MG moved his hands wildly in the air, as if swashbuckling with some invisible sword.

"...And he's... bam,  _ stab! _ Dude kills his crazy-ass mom!" 

The boy paused. 

"...But...uh...I'm not saying that y'all should kill your mom, 'cause t-that's messed up."

"I've always been more of an  _ Underworld  _ guy myself..." Noel spoke up, pressing his bottle to his lips. 

A chorus of ' _ oohs _ ' erupted from the vampire crowd as MG looked at Noel, flabbergasted. 

" _ U-Underworld _ ?" he asked incredulously. "Bro,  _ really _ ? But Blade's the OG!  _ Wesley. Goddamn. Snipes!" _

Noel's smile grew. "Kate. Beckinsale." he challenged. "...Kicking ass in a tight, wet leather  _ bodysuit _ ." 

More laughter from the vampires. And a few approving wolf whistles. 

But MG wasn't convinced, the vampire pointing at Noel accusingly. 

"Man, y'all are  _ sacrilegious _ as  _ hell! _ " he exclaimed. "No-one's better than my man, Wesley!" 

And without another word, he stormed off into the crowd, mumbling and grumbling to himself all the while. 

"Damn, bro..." Kaleb snickered. "You just  _ had  _ to go after poor old Wesley like that, didn't ya?" 

Noel felt a pang of guilt as he watched MG leave, but his feelings were forgotten the moment his eyes fell on another _ _ face in the crowd; a smiling face with a head of rich, auburn hair. 

_ Josie.  _

Noel tensed up, like a bird about to take flight, edging himself off the wood log as Josie walked by him. 

"O-One sec, guys!" Noel excused himself. "I'll be right back!" 

The witch rushed over to Josie, ignoring the wolf whistles and teasing laughter from the vampires. 

"Josie!"

The Saltzman witch turned around, her eyes widening as Noel approached her. 

"N-Noel," she stammered. "I, uh, I'm sorry I didn't see you there..." 

Noel stopped mere feet from her, readying a list of pre-considered topics in his mind. But the moment his eyes met hers, Noel's throat suddenly tightened, his mouth going dry as if filled with sand. 

"...Is everything okay?" Josie asked. 

"I just...uh..." Noel took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry...about this morning. I didn't mean to snap at you, I was just in a bad mood cos Lizzie woke me up and-"

"It's  _ okay _ , Noel." Josie cut him off, her smile brighter than the fire behind them. "I understand. I know Lizzie can be a bit much sometimes, but she means well. Honest." 

Noel wrinkled his nose. "...If you say so..." 

Honestly, the witch wondered, how could she keep defending Lizzie's selfishness like this? 

A silence fell between them, the momentum of their conversation falling like a puppet with cut strings. Not only that, but Noel could see Josie's eyes darting between him and the ground, her hands opening and closing shut at her sides. 

"...I meant what I said earlier today," she told him. "That you can talk to me if things...if things get rough, y'know?" 

The smile growing on Noel's face disappeared, the witch looking down.

"Talking isn't gonna help me, Jo." the boy lamented. "And it certainly isn't gonna stop everyone from thinking I'm a headcase. Even  _ Dorian and your dad look  _ at me like I'm a freak..." 

"Hey..." Josie whispered. She took another step forward and put a hand on Noel's arm. "I'm sure he understands.  _ Both  _ of them." 

Noel couldn't help but feel a strange flutter from Josie's touch; her hand warm and comforting, yet awkward and alien all at once. 

Her face caught the firelight exquisitely, the sun-kissed skin of her face glowing a soft bronze. 

"...Yeah." Noel scoffed, forcing himself to look away. "I'm sure some bookworm and middle-aged, vampire-hunting human know  _ all about  _ messed up witch problems..." 

Josie pursed her lips, letting her hand drop from Noel's arm; the latter's heart sinking  _ with  _ it. 

"...I'm sorry, Jo." Noel apologised again. "I know you're just trying to help but-urgh!" 

A burning pain shot up Noel's right arm; coming and going like a bolt of lightning. 

Josie's eyes widened in alarm. "Are you okay?" 

"Y-Yeah..." Noel winced, rubbing the sleeve of his shirt. The pain was only momentary, but it had struck sharply and suddenly enough for Noel to spill his drink everywhere. 

What was that; a stray ember from the fire or something? The burn marks on his forearms and shoulders flared up once every few months or years but  _ never  _ something that inten-AGH! 

The pain struck again, only this time in Noel's chest, just below and to the right of his collarbone. 

And it stayed. 

"AGGGH!" Noel exclaimed, pressing his hands to his chest. 

" _ Noel!"  _ Josie cried out, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Noel, what's happening-?!" 

Josie's cries caught the attention of the vampires, Kaleb and Marc watching the ordeal with fearful eyes. 

"Yo, Noel!" Kaleb called out, vamp-speeding over. "What's going-"

"STAY BACK!" Noel hissed through gritted teeth. "It's-AGH!!" 

_ Another  _ wave of pain shot up Noel's right leg, forcing the boy to the ground in a fit of agony. The second his body hit the forest floor, the pain had reached his entire body; agony building to a horrific crescendo within every nerve and organ of his torso. 

All eyes were on him now; every student in the Old Mill watching as Noel spasmed and sobbed with pain on the dirt of the forest floor. 

"What's wrong with Nolan?" one of the students asked. 

"Hey!" another called out. "Someone call somebody! Nolan's spazzin' out on the ground!" 

"Jesus, what's wrong with the defective _ this  _ time?" 

That last sentence bit into Noel's heart, the boy scowling as he looked dead into the crowd. 

" _ FUCK OFF! _ " He roared. 

A burst of energy exploded from Noel's body; a torrent of magic that tore bark from the trees, kicked up dust from the ground, shattered beer bottles and sent flames from the fire pit bursting up into the sky like lightning. 

The students screamed as the flames reached up into the sky, the trees and branches catching fire within seconds; right as another burst of energy went off. 

Josie screamed as she was knocked off her feet, but was saved just in time by Marc's vampire speed. 

But the same couldn't be said for the other students; the magic waves blowing everyone off their feet and into the air like a hurricane. Some landed more than twenty feet away, straight into trees and the old timber walls of the Mill. It was a miracle that no-one had fallen into the fire pits around the area. 

It was like an event straight out of Revelations; terror, fire, brimstone and chaos raging in all directions, with Noel in the centre of it. 

As if the pain weren't enough, bright circles began to appear in the lower corners of Noel's eyes - like flares in a camera lens. 

"Ugh...Jo, I'm...I'm starting to see spots..!" 

But Josie, barely up on her feet in Marc's arms, shook her head - a reaction shared by those closest to her. 

"You're not seeing spots, bro!" Kaleb gasped, his dark eyes wide with terror. 

Noel winced, a loud ringing in his ears. " _ What?! _ "

"Noel!" Josie screamed. "...Your birthmark!" 

And at last, Noel found the source of his agony: 

His birthmark was  _ glowing.  _

The  _ tomoe _ -shaped mark was barely recognisable under the blinding light bursting from it; every vein and artery in Noel's upper torso lit up like the Sun. 

And as the light got brighter, the pain got worse - to the point where Noel's head began to swirl and his whole body went numb...

"Noel!" 

...and he collapsed onto the ground, the pain swallowing him. 

Noel felt the dirt on his face for a moment, skirting the edge of reality and blackness until a strange voice rang in his mind: 

"彼はあなたを召喚します. 

選ばれた十三人が再会します.

そして彼の刃の下で

不自然な世界は滅びます." 

"...What?" Noel mumbled, his lips brushing the dirt. "...I...I can't...understand you..." 

"He summons you," the voice repeated in English, soft and serene as the darkness it echoed from. "The Chosen Thirteen will be reunited. And under his blade, the supernatural world will  _ perish _ ..." 

And then the voice spoke no more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noel suffers another episode! Rokubi makes his move to find the mysterious female witch eluding his grasp and a mysterious voice warns Noel of a 'threat' to the 'Unnatural'!   
What does this all mean? What is happening to Noel? What is Rokubi after and WHY? And what is this new threat on the horizon? 
> 
> Find out next time on LEGACIES: INARI RISING! 
> 
> Please don't forget to leave Kudos, if you haven't already and to post your thoughts in the comments. What do YOU think will happen next? ;) 
> 
> Much love <3 - KaiRenShiro


	7. Battle of the Beasts (Pt. 1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noel, barely recovered from his worst fit yet, is dragged out of school by Alaric, Hope and Rafael in search of the missing Landon Kirby and the stolen knife. But when a strange, smoke-smelling woman crosses their path and Noel starts to hear voices in his head, the Salvatore School kids will witness an event that will FOREVER change the supernatural world...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for being so patient. Part 2 of this chapter will be up next week <3   
Apologies for changing some scenes up but this was to make the story 'flow' better and to jazz things up, since I'm sure all of you are tired of seeing the same episodes repeated in every Legacies fic. 
> 
> Also, apologies if this chapter seems rushed but I HAVE NOT SLEPT ALL DAY and needed to get this chapter up XD 
> 
> Much love - KaiRenShiro <3

** _SALVATORE BOARDING SCHOOL - 9 YEARS AGO_ **

_Cough. Cough_.

Nolan squirmed under his heavy bedsheets, his tiny frame shivering as the strange woman unfurled a cooling patch.

"Hey," the woman soothed, her brunette hair hanging down in a short bob. "C'mon, Nolan. You need to get some rest."

But Nolan shook his head, bunching up his bedsheets under his chin.

The woman sighed. She was a lithe woman of medium-height, her olive-skin contrasting with her sky-blue nurse scrubs and white cardigan jacket. As she moved away from Nolan, a hospital pass dangling from her waist caught Nolan's eye.

'ELENA GILBERT,' it read. 'Trainee Nurse - Whitmore Hospital.'

Nolan skirted the edge of sleep once more, his eyelids heavy and his vision swirling as if stuck inside a hamster wheel.

Until the door opened.

Alaric appeared in the doorway, his breathing ragged as sweat patches pooled on his red polo shirt. As he moved inside, a tiny figure followed in after him, quiet and shy as a church mouse as it clung to Alaric's jeans.

_...Josie?_

"Elena." Alaric breathed, either out of exhaustion or surprise. "I came as soon as I could. What happened?"

Elena tucked her hands into her back pockets, shaking her head. "I don't know, Ric. Jeremy and your friend Dorian called me, saying that they and a group of witch kids saw Nolan have a fit."

Alaric knelt down beside Noel, looking at the boy as if he were some strange artefact.

Nolan's shivering had subsided, but the boy was feverish and barely awake - heat rolling off his forehead as if it were a radiator.

A _fit_? But that didn't make any sense! Alaric might have only known Nolan for a year or so, but he had _never_ had anything like this happen.

"D-Do you know what caused it?" Alaric asked.

"I don't know." Elena shook her head. "From what Jeremy and Dorian told me and his symptoms, I think I can rule out seizures and epilepsy. And there's nothing in Nolan's school files that says he has a pre-existing condition."

Elena drew a sharp, uneasy breath.

"But..."

Alaric raised an eyebrow. "_But_?"

Elena urged him over to the other side of Nolan's room with a subtle jerk of her head. As the two adults stood closer, Alaric took in the bareness of Nolan's room.

Thin layers of dust were forming on the window panes near the back wall, casting sunbeams over two featureless walls and an empty, four-tiered bookshelf. Were it not for the matted cream rug on the floor, or the tawny-brown end-table at Nolan's bedside, one would assume that the room hadn't been lived in at all.

Alaric held in a sigh. Clearly Nolan wasn't adjusting well...

As he turned back to Elena, Josie shuffled over to Nolan's side, peering at him with worried eyes. She smoothed down her polka-dotted dress and knelt at Nolan's side, slipping her hand into his.

"Noel?" she asked, her little voice laden with worry.

As she said that name, Nolan's eyes fluttered open, his hand squeezing Josie's.

"...It hurts, Jojo." he whimpered, his breathing ragged. "Everything hurts..."

"...Jeremy and Dorian might not have described anything like a seizure," Elena continued, watching the distracted Nolan. "But what they described didn't sound _normal _either."

"What do you mean?" Alaric asked, folding his arms.

"I _mean_," Elena sighed. "That they told me, that when Nolan collapsed, he knocked out three other kids and set fire to the flower gardens. _As_ he lost consciousness."

The breath Alaric had been holding in finally released itself, the man stealing a glance at Nolan and Josie.

"I can treat 'normal' outbursts, Ric." Elena told him. "Fits, seizures, strokes, but _magic_? I don't even know where to begin with that."

"It's okay, Elena." Alaric reassured her. "You've done more than enough already. I mean, I'm sure we can get an idea of this from someone. Maybe if we can get a hold of Bonnie-"

But at the mention of 'Bonnie', Elena tensed up, the young woman looking at the floor dejectedly.

"...I don't think Bonnie's gonna be an option, Ric."

Alaric's shoulders sagged as Elena folded her arms, tapping her foot on the wood floor.

"After...after everything that happened with Enzo...with Stefan and all that stuff before, she hasn't been receptive. It's like she's locked us out. I haven't even heard from her since she left for overseas last year."

Alaric nodded dejectedly. Of course, after all the stuff that Bonnie had endured, it was only a matter of time before she hit her limit.

Elena sighed again. "I'm only a nurse, right now, but I can still clear some things for Nolan. I can get him some X-rays, MRIs and maybe some blood tests, just to make sure the fit wasn't caused by something else. And maybe I can get a doctor to prescribe him something to help him sleep?"

Alaric shook his head, watching Nolan with a wide smile. "I don't think that'll be necessary..."

Elena followed her friends line of sight, her eyes widening at the sight before her:

Nolan and Josie were side by side together, the latter sitting on the floor with her head resting on the edge of Nolan's bedpost - the both of them sound asleep.

...And their hands still interlocked.  
  


** _PRESENT DAY_ **

_"AGH!"_

Noel shot upright in his bed, panic surging through his body like lightning as his heart pounded like a jackhammer.

To his left, he heard a surprised gasp, the sound of a magazine falling to the floor as a brunette figure cursed under her breath.

"...Pen-Penelope?!" Noel gasped.

"Jesus!" Penelope exclaimed. "Just scare me to death, why don't you?"

The witch scoffed under her breath, picking up the magazine she dropped onto the floor.

Noel laid back down, groaning as he wiped his hands over his face. "What the hell happened..?"

"You had another one of your 'fits'," Penelope told him curtly. "In the middle of the Old Mill semester party. In front of pretty much _everyone_."

Penelope said those last words with a light titter, bringing a scowl to Noel's sweat-stained face.

Great, _another_ breakdown. And only a day after the last one. If these kept up, then Dr Saltzman was going to lock him up in a transitional cellar.

"...How did I get up here?" Noel asked, forcing down his ire.

"Marc and Kaleb carried you up here," Penelope answered him, not, asking her eyes off the magazine page she was reading. "Well, mostly Marc - like full bridal style from the Mill. It would've been kinda cute if you hadn't, you know, had a _fit_."

At the mention of Marc's name, a small smile crept across Noel's lips. Well, 'cute' was definitely a word that Noel would associate with Marc.

_Note to self_, Noel thought. _Give Marc the biggest thank you kiss the boy has _ever _been given..._

"Dr Saltzman has been busy with some stuff," Penelope continued. "But Josie and MG have come to check on you over the last few days."

Noel's blood ran cold. _Days?!_

"I've been here too, BTW," Penelope chided, finally putting down the magazine. "So you can wipe off that shocked look on your face-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Noel cut her off, shoving his hand in her face. "Back the _fuck _up, Penn! What do you mean _days_? How long have I been out?!"

"Ooohh," Penelope sucked her pearly white teeth and glanced at her naked wrist, where a watch would be. "About two days."

Noel's eyes boggled. "T-Two days?!"

He kicked off his navy-blue bedsheets, his eyes darting back and forth in a panic as he pulled himself up.

"Two frickin' days?! I gotta go see Dr Saltzman, 'cos he's gonna be- _AGH!_"

A sharp burning pain shot up Noel's body, the agony paralyzing and rooting him to the bed.

"Ooh, yeah." Penelope winced with a slight chuckle. "I probably should have led with that..."

"Agh...Led with _what_?" Noel groaned, the words passing through his throat like kidney stones. The pain had subsided somewhat but lingered in Noel's chest and upper limbs.

"Agh, with _what?_" Noel hissed. The pain had subsided in Noel's legs but persisted in his upper chest and arms, as if someone were setting fireworks off in his nerves. Even talking felt like passing kidney stones.

Forcing the pain back as best he could, Noel reached for a glass tumbler of water on his bedside table.

"Dunno the details," Penelope shrugged. "But there was a butt-ton of magic running through you after your little fit in the grove. Emma said you'd be feeling some 'reaction' when you got up. If you survived..."

Noel's fingers trembled as he brought the tumbler to his lips. The water was tepid and had a 'furry' taste - no doubt a few hours old. But to Noel's chapped and cottonmouth lips, the water may as well have been a divine blessing.

He downed the contents in one gulp, almost dropping the glass as he wiped his mouth.

"...There was doubt that I'd live?" he finally asked.

"Nah, that was just me." Penelope smiled devilishly. "You started sweating and mumbling in your sleep yesterday, then you just stopped. I was about to call 'Time of Death' but I stuck around."

Noel rolled his eyes. "Your altruism is boundless. _Truly_."

"Yeah, but my patience isn't." she sighed, dumping her magazine on Noel's end table. "So if you're okay..?"

Noel waved his hands dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can go if you want, thanks."

But as Noel waved Penelope away, an additional question popped up in his mind, one regarding his blue flannel pyjamas.

Ergo, the clothes he did _not _collapse in.

Noel's eyes widened. "W-Wait! Who changed my clo-"

But as he locked eyes with Penelope, he already had his answer; the latter winking mischievously as she opened the door.

"You're welcome." she mouthed.

And with a smug, pucker of her lips, she was gone.

Noel groaned and slumped back into his pillow, the burning pain lingering in his arms. A moment passed and then he let out _another _groan - perhaps the loudest, longest one he had ever made.

"Great," he grumbled to himself. "First I have a giant fit in front of the whole school, then Penelope Park sees me naked..."

The phrase 'fuck my life' lingered on Noel's tongue momentarily before the boy urged it back down his throat.

_Don't want to overuse it._ Noel thought sourly.

***********

A sigh escaped Noel's mouth as he closed his dorm room door, fiddling with the drawstrings of his navy-blue Salvatore hoodie.

It was almost 10 o'clock, which meant that most of the students would be finishing with breakfast in the Great Hall - which would allow Noel to eat in peace. For now, all the boy wanted was to keep to himself, avoid anyone else he slighted in the grove the other night and above all_, not _talk to _anyone-_

"Noel, we need to talk."

Noel stopped dead in his tracks, a sigh escaped his mouth. The witch wondered who his visitor could be, but the voice of the school headmaster was unmistakable:

"_Really_ not a good time, Doc." Noel groaned.

Alaric half-laughed, though it sounded more like a scoff. "Well, looks like your time unconscious hasn't dulled your attitude."

Rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling, Noel thrust his hands into his hoodie pocket and turned on his heels, his gaze half-dead as he took in the sight of Alaric Saltzman.

The tall and muscular form, check. That ridiculous combed-over hair, check. That aura of patriarchal, self-righteousness, check, double and _triple check_.

But the crossbow slung over his shoulder and black duffle bag. _Well_, those were new...

"...It's about Landon Kirby." Alaric sighed. "I'm gonna need your help."

_Landon Kirby. _The name made Noel's teeth itch, but that was nothing compared to the red-hot anger rising in his throat; the nightmarish realization in the back of his head.

"...What did you do, _Ric_?"

******

"Told you we didn't need that sway bar."

A weary sigh escaped Alaric's mouth as Noel stepped out of the jeep - Hope and Raf following out after him.

Noel had called it. He had called it from moment _one_ and no-one had listened to him.

Landon Kirby, that 'harmless' new human kid, had not only lied about being compelled but he had _also _stolen a knife from the Memorial Library.

A knife that had been used to chargrill about _twenty _innocent people - and god knows who else.

"I should have knocked that pube-haired prick flat on his ass the second you tried to bring him into the school gate." Noel seethed.

"So you've said three times since we left the school grounds." Alaric grit his teeth. "Can we not do this now?"

"Well, considering we're going after a slimy little human with a fire-spitting knife, I'm not sure we'll get the opportunity later." Noel chided. "What the hell were you thinking letting that guy in the school?!"

"We needed to find out about Raf's past." Hope sighed, pushing back a loose lock of hair.

"Then why not ask _Raf_?" Noel folded his arms, giving Raf the side-eye. "Might give him something to do besides vouch for thieves and rip cars apart."

Raf snarled at him. "You _really _want to do this now?"

Noel shrugged off Raf's threat. "Ooh, _scary. _Good to see you've got that chest-beating shit down already."

Noel turned his back to face the line of trees before them, ignoring Raf's frown.

Yeah, new wolf breaks a sway bar and it's okay. But Noel tries to take the car out for his weekly driving lesson and he gets scolded.

Seriously, Noel thought. _Fuck _werewolves.

"You're not coming?" Hope asked, putting a hand on her left hip.

Alaric shook his head as he smoothed a paper map over the car hood, tapping his fingers on it impatiently.

"No, I'm going to tell Sheriff Donovan where we are, just so he can make sure no-one else comes up this way."

He nodded his head towards the forest.

"We don't know what Landon's capable of with that dagger. For all we know, a burned up bus is just the tip of the iceberg. Last thing we need is some deputies or Townies getting caught in the crossfire."

Noel saw Raf's fists ball up in the corner of his eye.

"He's not a killer!" the wolf seethed. "He didn't do anything-"

"Yeah, yeah," Hope groaned, nudging the wolf towards the break in the trees. "Less defending, more walking."

**********

The woods outside Mystic Falls always had a strange vibrance to them this time of year. The soil seemed healthier, the ground easily treaded and teeming with abundance. The air was so much crisper and cleaner but without that winter morning chill. And the leaves and trees felt so _alive_; the jade-green leaves gleaming in the sunlight as if they were little stained glass windows.

Noel didn't know if this was just the natural beauty of the Virginians forests or if Mystic Falls' history with magic had somehow 'beautified' the land. But there was one thing he _did _know:

Raf was _ruining _it.

"He was there for me on the worst day of my life. After my girlfriend died, he's the only thing that kept me going."

Noel rolled his eyes as he followed Raf, exchanging glares with Hope. They had been trudging through the forests for almost twelve minutes now, searching for any sign of Landon Kirby.

_This forest. _Noel thought. _It's like looking for a duplicitous needle in a _very _green haystack._

"Is he your foster brother or your _boyfriend_?" Noel groaned.

Hope bit her lip and looked away, but Noel could see the ghost of a smile on her face.

"Are you always such a smug bastard?" Raf shot back, his wolfish eyes glowing.

Noel shook his head. "No, usually, I'm the antipathic or disinterested bastard. But I thought that a time of crisis called for a personality shift."

It was Raf's turn to roll his eyes.

"Lan covered for me on the days I didn't want to leave the house. He'd catch me up on all the schoolwork I missed, brought me food every day - even when he was going through his own crap."

He turned his head back to Noel.

"..._That _sound like someone who'd blow up a bus full of people?"

Noel shrugged. "Ted Bundy worked on a Suicide Prevention Hotline. People change but malevolence is always simmering just below the surface somewhere..."

But despite his hostility, the witch would be lying if he said that Raf's words didn't touch his feelings; some faint caress against his heart that made him second-guess his resolve.

The witch's mind wandered back to his nightmare a few days ago; to the burning cemetery, the disapproving glares of his coven, his 'father'.

Noel's hand balled into a fist and his teeth grit themselves.

Raf might have had a point about Landon's kindnesses, but sometimes even the deepest displays of love concealed the most sinister intentions. That was the cruel thing about betrayal - it only came from the people closest to you - from the people you _loved_.

And they always, _always_ came at the worst possible time.

"...get that knife back for you and then we both can hear him out, okay?"

Raf's plea tore Noel away from his thoughts, the boy watching in silence as the young wolf was overtaken by a displeased Hope.

"Appreciate the passion," Hope sighed, her voice dripping with apathy. "But maybe you should exert some of it making new friends."

Noel shook his head wryly, an amused smile growing on his lips.

Raf scoffed. "So I can be as popular and well-liked as you two?"

Noel's smile disappeared the second those words left Raf's mouth, the boy's jaw setting as he locked eyes with Hope's.

"Yeah," Raf derided. "I've only been at the school for two days, and I've already heard all about Hope Mikaelson and her sunny disposition."

He turned back to Noel, the two exchanging glares.

"And even _more _about Nolan Griffith, the 'defective' witch with the magic temper tantrums."

_Nolan. Defective_. The combined use of his birth name and nickname from the witches made a sick, angry feeling swell in the boy's gut. If Raf had added to that, spirits know what Noel would be doing to him right now...

But Noel simply smiled, his eyes dripping with venom.

"Goes to show how much you _actually_ know." Noel sneered. "The people that call me 'defective' are full of shit. Not to mention a little bit ableist."

He pushed past Raf, shoving against the wolf's shoulder as he stood beside Hope.

"I mean, I knew that you were hopelessly loyal and pig-headed, wolf boy, but I didn't think you were a judgy gossip-monger as well."

"All I'm saying," Raf defended. "Is that maybe you guys shouldn't act like you know what's best for everyone."

Noel folded his arms. "As opposed to the guy who, by his own admittance, has only been here for _two days_? The very same guy who's defending a thief that's royally screwed 'everyone' over? And risks endangering us?"

Raf bit his lip, glancing away and shaking his head.

"Is that what this is?" he asked. "Some kind of loyalty pledge? Bring Landon back here and prove that I'm loyal to the school?"

Noel said nothing, his gaze still level with Raf's.

"Alright, fine." Raf sneered. "You guys get off my case, cut Lan and me some slack. In return, I'll get you the stupid, not-stupid knife _and _the answers you want. I promise."

"Why should we believe you?" Hope asked curtly, putting her hands on her hips.

"Because I don't lie." Raf answered her.

Hope's laugh almost made Noel jolt with surprise, the witch wondering if Hope had momentarily lost her mind. "_Everybody _lies."

The girl bit her lip as she said those words, her eyes wandering to the area behind them; a derelict root cellar covered in a mossy overgrowth.

"He's in the root cellar," Hope told Raf. "You have three minutes to do this your way."

Raf paused. "But the Headmaster said don't engage-"

"Two minutes fifty-nine," Hope counted. "Two minutes fifty-eight, two minutes fifty-seven..."

Rafael bolted like a rabbit towards the root cellar, leaving a less-than-amused Noel in his wake.

"You really think that it's a good idea to give them three whole minutes by themselves?" Noel asked with folded arms.

"That's why they're _not _getting three minutes." Hope told him. There was an apathetic tone to her voice, but Noel could see an amused glint in her cool, greenish-brown eyes.

A trait from her father perhaps?

"Besides," Hope added. "There's no way out of that cellar that I can sense. And Rafael's hardly a threat."

"Just like Landon was 'hardly a threat'?" Noel asked.

Noel almost felt a pang of guilt as Hope shot him a look, the Tribrid's eyes narrowing into slits.

Yeah, that was definitely a low-blow. But after the fluke of Landon being immune to compulsion _and _escaping the Salvatore School like that, Noel knew they needed to be ready for anything.

Too much was at stake now. As far as Noel saw it, he and Hope needed to bring their A-Game or they were playing to lose.

No taking chances. At this point, Noel wouldn't be surprised if Landon had somehow discovered a secret tunnel or somethi- AGH!

A burning pain shot up Noel's side, from his left knee to his ribs, causing him to double over and clutch his side.

_Speaking of 'playing to lose'. _Noel groaned under his breath.

Hope took a single step towards him. She put a hesitant, but supportive hand on his back but Noel could barely feel it over the searing pain down his side.

Or the haunting voice ringing in his mind.

** _"あなたは彼の召喚に抵抗しました。 まだあなたに希望があります."_ **

Noel groaned as he doubled over further, pressing both palms to the ground to support himself. "W-What?"

** _"あなたの最初のテストがあなたを待っています. 権力へのあなたの最初の障害。 あなたの生得権に."_ **

Hope shook her hand on his back. "Noel! Hey, what's wrong?"

But once again, her half-hearted ministrations failed to relax Noel. His fingers dug into the damp earth, tears burning in the edge of his eyes. Come on, if this voice was going to give him a migraine, could it do it in _English_?!

** _"以前のように自分の力を否定しますか? それとも、最終的にそれを受け入れますか？ 慎重に選択してください。 世界はあなたの決定で成長または衰退します..."_ **

Soon, the voice faded into some dark recess of Noel's mind and the pain faded with it - lifting like a morning fog and allowing Noel respite.

Rising to one knee, Noel gripped the side of a dead tree and hauled himself up, groaning distastefully at his now dirtied chinos.

Damn, he really liked those pants.

Meanwhile, Hope stood behind him. She averted her gleaming eyes but Noel waited, sensing that she had a question.

"...That from the fit you had at the Old Mill?" Hope finally asked, pursing her lips.

"...Yep." Noel groaned, his hands on his jeans. "Now I have a whole _new _reason to hate my magic."

Hope pursed her lips piteously as Noel stood up, his eyes narrowed at the ivy-ridden root cellar.

"C'mon," he sighed, tugging his sleeves over his scarred arms. "Let's grab this guy before he escapes again."

He and Hope crossed the clearing, the spring morning sun warming their faces as they reached the root cellar, where a frantic Landon awaited...

**********

Noel had never seen a person spill their guts as fast as Landon Kirby. In the phantom grip of Hope's spell, the thief broke down and recounted the details of all the events that led him to this cellar.

Admittedly, he _had _stolen the knife and _yes_, Hope's vision of the burning bus was correct, but only _half _the story. The other half, however fanciful, could be summarized in three words that Noel never thought he would hear:

Fire. Breathing. Woman.

Considering the state of the bus and Landon's panic (and the torched forest clearings around the area), Noel, though bitter about Landon's actions, was not _entirely _unopento Landon's story.

Of course, some were a little less convinced than others.

"I don't believe anything you say." Hope spat, her fist closing.

Landon winced as the power holding him to the wall intensified, his scrawny body creaking under the weight of Hope's magic.

"You have every right to be mad at me," he groaned. "But I am telling you the truth!"

He glanced at Raf, his pearly teeth clenched.

"Come on, man, help me!"

"I believe him." Raf said without a second thought.

Hope scoffed. "You believe that a fire-breathing woman burned up the bus?"

"Yeah." Raf repeated.

Noel sighed. Hope interrogating, Landon panicking and Raf defending - a round-robin of lies and insults trading that continued for almost five minutes, with no evidence of Landon's fire woman.

Until...

"There's a fire-breathing woman running through the woods!"

Noel wrinkled his nose as Alaric appeared in the cellar doorway, his grey shirt stained with sweat and his body reeking of smoke.

"What the hell happened?!" Hope exclaimed, holding a hand over her mouth.

The headmaster looked at her and Noel incredulously, his eyes narrowing as he saw Raf and Landon together.

"I could ask the both of you the same question." he rebutted. "Did I or did I not say 'don't engage'?"

Hope pursed her lips as Noel folded his arms, a smug smile on the boy's face. "Yeah, I bet it just _sucks _when people don't take your advice, huh?"

Alaric rolled his eyes. Clearly Noel wasn't going to let this go...

"Besides," Noel sighed, jabbing a finger in Landon's direction. "It's not like this bean-sprout here is a threat."

"Not unless crappy apologies can kill." Hope added.

"Well, looks can be deceiving..." Alaric retorted. He turned away for a moment, wincing as he swatted a blackened patch of his shirt.

Noel swallowed. Was that _soot?_

"Case in point," the headmaster groaned. "I ran into a woman after I made the call to the sheriff. Thought she was a survivor from the bus wreckage and tried to help her. But then she tried to burn me alive."

Noel snickered. "Well, you do have a way with women..."

Alaric ignored him. "Turns out that she's a pyromancer."

Landon's jaw dropped. "Wait, wh-what's a pyromancer?"

"...A fire-breathing witch." Hope shivered.

Raf chuckled smugly as Hope's face went deathly-white, the tribrid putting two and two together. "Ric, she wants the knife!"

"Well, where is it?" Alaric asked.

Noel tried and failed to suppress a groan. _Again_ with the knife?!

Alaric's gaze followed Hope and Raf's line of sight towards Landon, the boy shrugging his trembling shoulders.

"I-I lost it in the woods." he stammered. "I was running around in circles all night tryna find a place to hide."

Alaric sighed, exhaling slowly and sharply in a way that made Noel feel uneasy.

"Okay, okay." the older man nodded. "Well, let's, uh, find it before _she _does, huh?"

Hope and Alaric were the first to rush up the cellar stairs, followed hesitantly by a skittish Raf and Landon.

But Noel lingered in the room, unloading the mother of all groans as he inhaled a breath of musty air.

What the hell was going on these last few days? One minute Noel, Alaric and Hope were enrolling a new werewolf and the next they're stuck between some thief and a pyromancer?

Noel wiped his hands over his face, his fingers lingering on the tuft of white hair dangling over his forehead.

Jesus Christ! When did he lose control over his life?! One idiot headmaster lets in _one _idiot human and now they were on an _idiot _retrieval mission for-

Noel let out a frustrated yell as he stormed up the cellar stairs, forcing down the urge to beat some silly. But as soon as he left the cellar, the witch stopped, almost bumping into Alaric and Raf.

"...We don't want any trouble." Noel heard Alaric say.

Noel peered past his headmaster's shoulder to see a dark-skinned woman in a dishevelled white dress standing before them - the stench of smoke rolling off her in waves.

_The pyromancer_. Noel realized.

The woman held out her hand demandingly, her magma-orange eyes flashing in Landon's direction.

"What does she want?" Raf asked, his voice laden with suspicion.

"I don't know..." Landon answered, lowering his eyes.

But the pyromancer seemed to know. She held out her hand again, snarling as she took a half-step forward.

Noel grit his teeth, his scowling eyes locking with Hope's.

"Landon." the witch seethed. "Do you have the knife?"

Landon shook his head. "N-No! I told you, I lost it last night-"

"Don't bullshit me." Noel snapped, the words barely passing his grit teeth. "Give her the knife and _run _for it."

But Landon shook his head. "I-I don't think that's a good idea."

Noel seized Landon by the collar, almost pulling the boy off his feet as he looked him dead in the eye.

"Hey, Noel!" Alaric chided.

But Noel ignored him, tightening his grip on Landon's collar. If his hands had been around Landon's throat, the latter's neck bones would be _powder_ by now.

"Give her the knife, or I swear to God, I will-!"

A hideous shriek filled the air, a sound halfway between despair and sheer bloody terror.

Everyone whirled around with a start in time to see the pyromancer drop her arms and shuffle backwards, her mouth agape and hands held out in surrender.

But something else was wrong.

Once wide with obsession and bloodlust, the pyromancer's eyes were now wide and spilling over with tears. And her body, once lithe and coiled like a snake, was shaking as though riddled by an earthquake.

Alaric didn't need some supernatural senses or magic to know what the woman was experiencing. He had seen and felt this emotion far too much in his lifetime.

_Fear_. She was _frightened_.

Alaric glanced around the forest as the pyromancer snarled at them, her teary eyes narrowed into slits.

What could a _pyromancer_ possibly be frightened of? They were apex witches. What could scare something that powerful-

"_AGHHH!!"_

Alaric and Hope whirled around as they heard Noel cry out in pain. The witch released Landon and collapsed to his knees in two seconds, clamping his hands to either side of his head.

"Noel!" Hope exclaimed. "What's wrong?!"

"Aghhh...!" the boy winced. "Make...it...stop!"

As if the burning pain in his nerves weren't enough, a horrific pressure was building in Noel's head, as if something were trying to burst free from his skull.

And if _that _wasn't bad enough, then the blood dripping from Noel's mouth and eyes was.

"Shit!" Alaric swore, completely forgetting the pyromancer. He jumped down to his knees and cupped Noel's face, the boy's eyelids drooping as his body shivered.

"Wha..." Noel panted. "Wha-Who are...you?"

"Noel," Alaric whispered. "Its me! Doctor Saltzman! Can't you recognise me?"

But Noel wasn't talking to Alaric.

Unseen by the others, a strange feminine figure had appeared between them and the pyromancer; almost seven feet tall and wrapped in an ivory white kimono that shone like diamonds in the sunlight.

The pyromancer kept shrieking at them, but seemed otherwise oblivious to the figure's presence - huffing and puffing as she watched Noel with frightened but hungry, shark-like eyes.

The ghostly woman drew closer to Noel, looming over Alaric like as locks of her ebony, taregami hair carressed the ground. Noel could make out a tapered 'v' shaped chin and a pair of ruby, blood-red lips but the rest of the woman's features were obscured by a strange animal mask.

Was it a cat? A tiger? A fox?

But before Noel could come up with an answer, the woman placed an alabaster hand on Noel's face, her crystal-like nails scraping the boy's cheekbone.

"Noel! Come on, we have to go!"

Noel shivered at the woman's touch. It was strange and alien but felt oddly warm and calming. Comfortable even.

It was almost..._motherly_.

** _"...目を覚ます、私の息子."_ **

Noel gasped. Wait, that voice-

A strange sensation struck Noel like a thunderbolt, the feeling that he was falling awake and falling asleep all at once. He felt like he was floating, adrift in some unseen place beyond his body, before he was 'yanked' back into being, free of pain and full of energy.

And absolutely _brimming_ with power.

"Noel?" Alaric asked again. "Noel, I need you to-"

Noel's fingers shot out and seized Alaric by the throat, his hand faster than lightning and his grip tighter than iron.

Hope gasped. "Noel! What the f-?!"

Noel backhanded her across the face, sending the tribrid flying into a thicket of dead trees behind her.

Raf tried to run to her, but Noel, still choking Alaric, delivered a swift side-kick to his stomach, the wolf collapsing like a house of cards.

The pyromancer lowed as she watched Noel turn on his peers, her throat glowing a blinding blood-orange.

But Noel whirled around and held out a fist in her direction, a phantom hand slamming shut around the pyromancer like a rat trap.

The pyromancer howled in the grip of Noel's spell, writhing and wriggling like a worm in the claws of an eagle. But the more she protested, the harder Noel squeezed his fist - the pyromancer's bones crackling under the spell's strain.

"N...Noel..!" Alaric coughed, Noel's hand still around his throat. "Snap...out...of-"

Noel tossed Alaric to the ground and advanced towards the pyromancer, his eyes narrowed as he raised a single hand towards her:

**"なくなった!"**

The spell exploded from Noel's palm like an atomic blast; piles of earth, rocks and dead leaves flying in all directions with a fearsome thunderclap.

The sheer force of the blast blew Alaric and the others further backwards, but none more so than the pyromancer; the woman screaming shrilly as she collided with a tree at the end of the clearing.

The area was in absolute chaos now. Magic energy thrashed and battered the clearing like some heavy, invisible hailstorm, carving cracks and fissures into the ground over three feet deep and fifty feet long.

And on top of that, a terrible tempest engulfed the forest; the very trees and air shaking as if in fear of the boy at the centre of the chaos.

"Noel!" Alaric shouted, trying and failing to resist the magic pinning him in place. "Noel! Snap out of it!"

But Noel wasn't listening, his attention focused solely on the downed pyromancer. The _hafu_ boy approached the creature slowly, magic arcing across his fingertips as a low snarl rumbled in his throat.

**"Now you die."** Noel snarled at her, his voice low and guttural. **"You disgusting beast...!"**

And with a blood-curdling cry, he brought his fist down.

**HOLY SH*T, NOEL HAS *LOST IT*! :O**

**A pyromancer on their path, a missing knife and NOW the mother of all magic fits!  
How will the group get Noel under control this time?  
Will Noel be able to defeat the pyromancer single-handedly?  
What has come over him so suddenly?  
Why is he hearing Japanese voices in his head?  
But more importantly - WHO was that ghostly woman that set off Noel's magic? **

**Find out in the next chapter! :D TYSM guys, and please don't forget to VOTE and COMMENT your thoughts so far. What do YOU guys think is going on? Who was that mysterious woman? **

**I *CANNOT WAIT* to show you the next arc I have planned ;) **


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